Tag Archives: Matt Munisteri

SUNDAY NIGHTS AT 326 SPRING STREET (Part Four) — WE NEED SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO: SESSIONS AT THE EAR INN, featuring THE EarRegulars (2007 – the Future)

It’s Sunday again — and that means it’s time to go to The Ear Inn.  This will explain it all.

I know, perhaps better than you’d think, the difference between a live performance and a video, but I’d ask you to not scoff at the latter, because it is our century’s version of a phonograph record . . . and since I would guess that few people alive in 2020 heard Charlie Christian, we’ve contented ourselves with his “recorded legacy.”

Here’s my humble contribution to keeping The Ear Inn and The EarRegulars fresh and lively in our ears and hearts.

Thanks to the magic of technology, we can go there (or back or sideways) to hear music from November 8, 2009, featuring Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Harry Allen, tenor saxophone; Neal Miner, string bass, unaffected Ministers of Magic.

Victor Herbert’s INDIAN SUMMER:

With nods to Whiteman and Horace Henderson, HAPPY FEET:

and Louis’s swinging anthem of reproach, SOMEDAY YOU’LL BE SORRY:

Blessings on the place, its inhabitants musical and non-musical.  Let us gather there soon in peace and safety, our hearts purged of fear.

May your happiness increase!

SUNDAY NIGHTS AT 326 SPRING STREET (Part Three) — WE NEED SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO: SESSIONS AT THE EAR INN, featuring THE EarRegulars (2007 – the Future)

I hope I will be forgiven repeating this moody strain: early in 2020, I would be getting ready to get ready (I arrive too early) to be at this Shrine.  If you don’t know it, please read and listen; if you do, the same suggestions apply.

Here you can find parts one and two of this Sunday-night series celebrating good times at The Ear Inn, 326 Spring Street, New York, thanks to the EarRegulars.

And more from the night of September 6, 2009 — the video is appallingly dark and fuzzy [I did buy a more light-sensitive camera, so have patience], but the sounds made by Danny Tobias, cornet; Michael Hashim, alto saxophone; James Chirillo, guitar; Frank Tate, string bass, are bright.

A serious criminal offense — SOMEBODY STOLE MY GAL:

She came back and will only answer to MY GAL SAL:

But now she’s NAUGHTY:

We add the splendid violinist Valerie Levy to the band for EMBRACEABLE YOU.  Remember when that title didn’t bring up stifled tears and muffled snarls of frustration?

That 1930 celebration of new romance, I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME:

I WANT TO BE HAPPY:

And finally, for this post, POOR BUTTERFLY:

We live in hope that this joyous coming-together can and will happen again.

May your happiness increase!

SUNDAY NIGHTS AT 326 SPRING STREET (Part One) — WE NEED TO HAVE SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO: SESSIONS AT THE EAR INN, featuring THE EarRegulars (2007 – the Future)

I am a relentless optimist — otherwise I wouldn’t be typing now — but there’s not much even I can muster up about the recent past and the continuing present.  My arms get tired.  But “we need to have something to look forward to,” wise words said by a friend.  So even though my hope for the future might be built on something more delicate than empirical evidence, I offer it to you.

This journey into the future starts in the summer of 2007.  It is not a lamentation, an elegy for what was lost.  Rather it is a celebration of joys experienced and joys to come.  With music, of course.

The Ear Inn, 2012 Photograph by Alexandra Marks

My involvement with this place — which looks like a bar but is really a shrine — goes back to the summer of 2007, before JAZZ LIVES existed.  Jon-Erik Kellso (friend-hero) whom I’d first met at Chautauqua in September 2004, and later at The Cajun in 2005-6, told me about a new Sunday-night gig at The Ear Inn, a legendary place I’d never been to.  I think I made the second Sunday, where he, Howard Alden, and Frank Tate played two very satisfying sets.

Incidentally, 326 Spring Street is a minute’s walk from the corner of Spring and Hudson, where the Half Note once stood.  There, in 1972, I saw Ruby Braff, Jimmy Rushing, and Jake Hanna one night.  Finest karma, I would say.

The band at The Ear Inn (not yet named The EarRegulars) — a collection of friends, eventually Jon and another horn, two rhythm, most often Matt Munisteri, guitar, and someone equally noble on string bass, held forth from around 8 to 11 PM.  Because I knew the musicians (or could introduce myself to them as Friend, not Exploiter) I could bring my Sony digital recorder, smaller than a sandwich, place it on a shelf to the rear of the band, record the sets and transfer the music to CDs which I would then give to the musicians when I saw them next.  The food was inexpensive, the waitstaff friendly, and I could find a table near the band.  It was also no small thing that the Ear was a short walk from the C or the 1; if I drove, I could park for free.  These things matter.

I thought it then and still do the closest thing to a modern Fifty-Second Street I had ever encountered.  Musical friends would come in with their instruments and the trio or quartet would grow larger and more wonderful.  Although I was still teaching and went to my Monday-morning classes in exhausted grumpiness (“This job is interfering with The Ear Inn!”) these Sunday-night sessions were more gratifying than any other jazz-club experience.  The emphasis was on lyrical swing, Old Time Modern — a world bounded by Louis, Duke, Basie, Django, and others — where the Fellas (as Nan Irwin calls them) came to trade ideas, where musicians hinted at Bix, the ODJB, Bird, and Motown.

When this blog came to be, I started writing about nights at The Ear — rhapsodical chronicles.  I’m proud that only the second post I wrote, DOWNTOWN UPROAR, was devoted to the seven months of happy Sundays at 326 Spring Street.  Again, I wrote about it EVERY SUNDAY AFTERNOON, WE FORGET ABOUT OUR CARES — a musical reference you’ll figure out.  In late April 2008, I could depict in words the session where a lovely graceful couple danced balboa in between the tables (the Ear, as you will see, got many people into a small space) and was my first chance to hear Tamar Korn, that wonder — FEELING THE SPIRIT.  And in all this, I had the consistent help and encouragement of Lorna Sass, who has not been forgotten.

Those who know me will find it puzzling, perhaps, that there has been no mention of my ubiquitous video camera, which I had been using to capture live jazz as far back as 2006.  For one thing, the Ear’s tables were close together, so there was little or no room to set up a tripod (videographers must know how to blend in with the scenery and not become nuisances: hear me, children!)  Darkness was an even more serious problem.  I had shot video in places that were well-lit, and YouTube allowed people to adjust the color and lighting of videos shot in low light.  The results might be grainy and orange, but they were more visible.  Early on, YouTube would permit nothing longer than ten minutes to be posted, so the lengthy jams at the Ear — some running for thirteen minutes or more — had to be presented in two segments, divided by me, on the spot.  But I am getting ahead of myself.

Rereading my descriptions I am amazed: “I was there?  That happened?” as in the presence of miracle, but something that I didn’t do and can’t take credit for changed my life — a video of the closing ten minutes of an October 2008 YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY posted by Howard Alden, who was playing rather than holding a camera, alongside Jon-Erik Kellso, Danny Tobias, Harvey Tibbs, Evan Christopher, Dan Block, Sebastien Giradot, Chuck Redd:

Obviously The Ear Inn would never double as a Hollywood soundstage, but I posted this video on JAZZ LIVES.  I thought, “Let me see if I can do this also.”  But it took until June 7, 2009, for me to put my Great Plan into action, finding a camera (with the help of Jerome Raim) that would penetrate the darkness.  Here are the first two results, the first, featuring Jon-Erik and Duke Heitger, trumpets; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Neal Miner, string bass:

That is my definition of stirring music, and so is this — MOONGLOW, with Tamar Korn, voice; Dan Block, clarinet, Harvey Tibbs, trombone, sitting in, all creating a galaxy of sounds:

That’s slightly more than a decade ago.  There are currently no Sunday-night sessions at The Ear Inn.  But this post is not to mourn their absence.

I write these words and post these videos in hope for a future that will come again.  I have no date to mark on my kitchen calendar, but, as I wrote at the start, I am an optimist.  And I think regular Sunday-postings of music from the Ear will remind those of us who were there and enlighten those who were not.  Between June 2009 and late 2019, I compiled around 400 videos, and I plan to create regular Sunday experiential parties to which you are all invited.  It is not precisely the same thing as being there, saying hello to Victor or Barry or Eric, hugging and being hugged, ordering dinner and ale, waiting, nearly trembling with anticipation for irreplaceable joyous music . . . but I offer it to you in love, in hope that we will all be ready when the great day comes:

It is nearly three o’clock on a sunny Sunday afternoon.  In the ideal world, which can return, I would be putting my camera, batteries, and notebook into my knapsack, ready — too early, as is my habit — for a night at The Ear Inn.  I’m ready.

May your happiness increase!

BILLIE AND BLUES at THE CAFE BOHEMIA PREQUEL (Part Two): MARA KAYE, JON-ERIK KELLSO, MATT MUNISTERI, EVAN ARNTZEN, BRIAN NALEPKA (Sept. 26, 2019)

Before there was this — the official opening of Cafe Bohemia, 15 Barrow Street, New York City, one flight down — on October 17, 2019:

there was this, a warm-up for the club, a “soft opening” on September 26:

Glorious music from Mara Kaye, singing with the Cafe Bohemia Jazz Band — totally acoustic — Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Evan Arntzen, clarinet and tenor saxophone; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Brian Nalepka, string bass.  I posted other performances from that evening, here — but here are seven more beauties for your consideration, mixing blues by Memphis Minnie, the Smith ladies, and of course Lady Day.

Mara, of course, is herself, which is a damned good thing.

FOOLIN’ MYSELF:

I GOT TO MAKE A CHANGE:

WANTS CAKE WHEN I’M HUNGRY:

ARKANSAS BLUES:

YOUR MOTHER’S SON-IN-LAW:

TOO LATE:

A SAILBOAT IN THE MOONLIGHT:

Now, even more good news.  Cafe Bohemia is perking along beautifully — on November 21, I was there for a wonderful quartet session by Danny Tobias, Dan Block, Josh Dunn (new to me and a wonder), and Tal Ronen.  “Beyond the beyonds!” as a character in a Sean O’Faolain story says.  And on the 22nd, I heard and admired Ricky Alexander, Adam Moezinia, Daniel Duke, and Chris Gelb, with a glorious appearance by Dan Block for two numbers.  All night, every Monday, my dear young hero Matt “Fat Cat” Rivera, who knows things but is not compelled to flatten people with facts, spins wondrous 78 rpm discs of the real stuff, and he reappears before and after sets on Thursdays.  The HOT CLUB, you know.

And on December 5, our Mara will be celebrating her birthday at Cafe Bohemia, so if you weren’t there for the prequel, you can make up for it in the near future.

It will be a birthday party where Mara and friends give us presents, you know.

Here is the Cafe’s Facebook page, and here is their website.

May your happiness increase!

ALBANIE PAYS US A VISIT: ALBANIE FALLETTA, JON-ERIK KELLSO, MATT MUNISTERI, PAT O’LEARY (The Ear Inn, October 13, 2019)

The shrine of more than 500 Sunday evenings, 326 Spring Street, New York City:

Our NOLA visitor, Albanie Falletta:

Albanie, 2017, by Eric Morales.

and two still photographs to verify that it actually happened on October 13:

Here’s another view, with your videographer at left, next to an voluble woman from the British Isles who had enthusiastic stories to tell.  Thanks to Neal Siegal, my Associate Producer for the set, who graciously offered a seat at his table.

Photograph by Doug Pew.

Before this, I had only heard Albanie on a recent CD, where her emotional force (and I don’t mean volume) impressed me greatly.  She was and is even more delightful in person, even though my camera was not close to her.

Her single-string playing has some of the ease and substance of early Django and the best acoustic players of the Thirties, and on her one vocal, her multi-hued voice is poignant without being melodramatic.  Surrounded by players she admires, she wasn’t intimidated, but created concise, memorable statements as well as adding a great deal to the ensemble.  On the basis of this short acquaintance, she’s someone to admire.

Albanie, 2018, photograph by David Conklin.

Here’s the musical evidence.  I was wrestling with camera and tripod (and gravity — things fell and had to be retrieved) in a small space, so it took a little time for me to get everything together and to progress to complete performances.  But I think the results are quietly spectacular — and that praise includes my heroes Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Matt Munisteri, guitar, Pat O’Leary, string bass.  (In an early draft of this post, I’d typed that Pat was playing “strong bass,” which is true, as you will hear.)

MY GAL SAL:

I’LL NEVER BE THE SAME:

If you have patience for only one performance, make it this one, a supercharged WILLIE THE WEEPER, dangerously heating up the whole block:

I GET THE BLUES WHEN IT RAINS, with a wonderful Albanie vocal:

GEE, BABY, AIN’T I GOOD TO YOU, Magic of Mutation thanks to Jon-Erik:

HOW COME YOU DO ME?:

For the finicky: The Ear Inn is dark, and people talk.  But The EarRegulars provide irreplaceable experiences.  And my sole words to Albanie are, “Come back soon!”

May your happiness increase!

HALLOWED GROUND COMES TO LIFE, or THE SOUNDS AT CAFE BOHEMIA (15 Barrow Street, New York City): MARA KAYE, JON-ERIK KELLSO, MATT MUNISTERI, EVAN ARNTZEN, BRIAN NALEPKA (September 26, 2019)

Once . . . .

New York City is full of vanished landmarks: one checks the address of what was once a place both sacred and thriving only to find that it is now a nail salon or, even more common, that its facade no longer exists: it’s now luxury apartments or university offices.  But resurrection, however rare, is possible and delightful. The “new” CAFE BOHEMIA, thanks to the labors and vision of Mike Zieleniewski and Christine Santelli, is one of those urban(e) miracles.

There will be divine music there on Thursday, October 24, featuring Jon-Erik Kellso, Evan Arntzen, Arnt Arntzen, and Jared Engel as well as the Hot Club.  Tickets here for the 7:00 show; here for the 9:30 show.  And for those who “don’t do Facebook,” tickets can be purchased through Eventbrite.

Now . . . .

and another view:

LIVE MUSIC for sure.  And there’s also Fat Cat Matt Rivera’s HOT CLUB, which I’ve written about here.

But let’s go back to some of that LIVE MUSIC, performed on September 26, before the Club’s official opening — a delightful all-acoustic jazz and blues evening featuring Mara Kaye, vocal; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Evan Arntzen, clarinet and tenor saxophone; Brian Nalepka, string bass.  Incidentally, only people who regularly attend live-music events know how rare “all-acoustic” is, and how pleasing.

BLACK SHEEP BLUES:

For Billie, I WISHED ON THE MOON:

Also for Lady Day, NO REGRETS:

“How sad I am,” with a grin, for MY MAN:

I’ll have more music from this night, also from October 17 (Evan, Andrew Millar, Felix Lemerle, Alex Claffy) but I urge you to tear yourselves away from those electronic devices and visit the Cafe on the 24th.  It’s tactless to remind people but necessary that clubs, concerts, and festivals need actual human attendees (what a thought!) to survive.  So . . . see you there!

May your happiness increase!

IN A SPIN, TWICE: CLUB BOHEMIA OFFICIALLY OPENS! (October 17, 2019) and FAT CAT MATTHEW RIVERA’S HOT CLUB!

You might be walking along Barrow Street, on the Bleecker Street side of Seventh Avenue South (all this conjecture is taking place in Greenwich Village, New York City, New York, the United States); you could look up and see this sign.

You might just think, “Oh, another place to have an ale and perhaps a burger,” and you’d be correct, but in the most limited way.

Surprises await the curious, because down the stairs is the sacred ground where the jazz club Cafe Bohemia existed in the Fifties, where Miles, Lester, Ben, Coltrane, Cannonball, Blakey and the Jazz Messengers, and Pettiford played and live sessions were recorded.

Here’s the room as it is now.  Notice the vertical sign?

This isn’t one of those Sic Transit Gloria Mundi posts lamenting the lost jazz shrines (and certainly there is reason enough to write such things) BECAUSE . . .

On Thursday, October 17, yes, this week, the new Cafe Bohemia will open officially.  This is important news to me and I hope to you.  So let me make it even more emphatic.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 17, THE NEW CAFE BOHEMIA OPENS. 

That is as emphatic as WordPress permits.  I was there on September 26, for the club’s trial run (more about that below) and I was delighted to find very friendly staff, good food and drink, pleasing sight lines and a receptive crowd, so it was a nostalgic return to a place I’d never been.

But back to current events.  On this coming Thursday, there will be two shows, an early show at 6:45 and a late one at 9:30.  These shows will be, as they say in retail, “value-packed”!  Each show will feature wonderfully entertaining and enlightening record-spinning of an exalted kind by Fat Cat Matthew Rivera, bringing his Hot Club to the Village on a regular basis, AND live jazz from the Evan Arntzen Quartet including guitarist Felix Lemerle, string bassist Alex Claffy, and drummer Andrew Millar.  Although the Bohemia hasn’t yet posted its regular schedule, their concept is both ambitious and comforting: seven nights of live jazz and blues music of the best kind.

Evan Arntzen, photograph by Tim Cheeney

Buy tickets here for the early show, here for the late one.  It’s a small room, so be prepared.  (I am, and I’ll be there.)  And here is the Eventbrite link for those “who don’t do Facebook.”

If you follow JAZZ LIVES, or for that matter, if you follow lyrical swinging jazz, I don’t have to introduce Evan Arntzen to you.  And if, by some chance, his name is oddly new to you, come down anyway: you will be uplifted.  I guarantee it.

But who is Matthew Rivera?

I first met Matt Rivera (to give him his full handle, “Fat Cat Matthew Rivera,” which he can explain to you if you like) as a disembodied voice coming through my speakers as he was broadcasting on WKCR-FM a particularly precious musical reality — the full spectrum of jazz from before 1917 up to the middle Fifties, as captured on 78 RPM disks.

It isn’t a dusty trek into antiquity: Matt plays Miles and Bird, Gene Ammons and Fats Navarro next to “older styles.”  Here’s Matt in a characteristically devout pose, at Cafe Bohemia:

and the recording (you’ll hear it on this post) that is the Hot Club’s theme song:

About two weeks ago, I visited the Fat Cat in his Cafe Bohemia lair and we chatted for JAZZ LIVES.  YouTube decided to edit my long video in the middle of a record Matt was spinning, but I created a video of the whole disk later.  Here’s the nicely detailed friendly first part:

and the second part:

and some samples of the real thing.  First, the complete WHO?

DEXTERITY, with Bird, Miles, and Max:

and finally, a Kansas City gem featuring tenor player Dick Wilson and Mary Lou Williams and guitarist Floyd Smith:

Cafe Bohemia isn’t just a record-spinning listening party site, although the Fat Cat will have a regular Hot Club on Monday nights.  Oh, no.  When I attended the club’s trial run on September 26, there was live jazz — a goodly helping — of the best, with Mara Kaye singing (acoustically) blues and Billie with the joyous accompaniment of that night’s Cafe Bohemia Jazz Band: Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Evan Arntzen, clarinet and tenor saxophone; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Brian Nalepka, string bass.  Here’s their opening number, ST. LOUIS BLUES:

The first word Mara utters on that video is “Wow,” and I echo those sentiments.  Immense thanks are due owner Mike Zieleniewski and the splendid Christine Santelli as well as the musicians and staff.

See you downstairs at Cafe Bohemia on Thursday night: come over and say hello as we welcome this birth and rebirth to New York City.

May your happiness increase!

WHEN LOVE COMES IN THE EAR: JON-ERIK KELLSO, MATT MUNISTERI, SCOTT ROBINSON, NEAL MINER (The EarRegulars at The Ear Inn, Sunday, June 10, 2018)

Readers of JAZZ LIVES know how deeply I and others treasure the Sunday-evening gatherings of kindred enlightened souls that take place at The Ear Inn, 326 Spring Street, Soho, New York City.  Here is some joy from June 10, with the personnel listed above: Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet and special mutations; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Scott Robinson, reeds and brass cross-species permutations [translation: tenor saxophone, alto clarinet; miniature French horn]; Neal Miner, string bass.

The EarRegulars, June 10, 2018. Photograph by Neal Siegal.

Here are a few highlights, delights all.

Some Fats by way of Louis, BLUE, TURNING GREY OVER YOU:

YOU BROUGHT A NEW KIND OF LOVE TO ME (its beginning excised because of a collision between my camera and an eager patron):

Don Redman’s soulful plaint, GEE, BABY, AIN’T I  GOOD TO YOU?:

More Fats! I’VE GOT A FEELING I’M FALLING with Scott’s loping, tender solo reading of the verse:

See you at The Ear around 7 some sweet Sunday.  And save me a barstool.

May your happiness increase!

JAMES BIRKETT AND EMMA FISK PLAY VENUTI AND LANG, WITH GREAT AFFECTION AND EXPERTISE

The back covers of the long-playing records of my youth often were adorned with thumbnail photographs of other record covers, and this solicitation, “If you’ve enjoyed this LONG PLAY record, you’ll be sure to enjoy . . . .”

If you savor beautifully recorded chamber jazz, swinging yet leisurely, you’ll be sure to enjoy the new CD by guitarist James Birkett and violinist Emma Fisk, devoted to the music of Joe Venuti and Eddie Lang.

Since Eddie’s death in 1933, there have been many attempts to recreate the magic the two Italian boys from Philadelphia created: Venuti himself always looked for guitarists who could come close to Eddie’s splendors: Dick McDonough, Frank Victor, Tony Romano, Bucky Pizzarelli, Carl Kress, Perry Botkin, Bobby Sherwood, George Barnes, Tony Gottuso, Danny Perri, Barney Kessel, Lino Patruno attempted to fill that role on record dates and more.

As I write this, Nick Rossi, Kris Tokarski, and Glenn Crytzer are involved in similar small group projects, and I know I am leaving someone out.  Matt Munisteri does a peerless Lang behind John Gill’s Bing.  Martin Wheatley and Spats Langham both understand him deeply.

Venuti was a hard act to follow — I am leaving aside the sometimes cruel practical jokes — but he was often in love with speed and execution, and many violinists have tried to out-Joe Joe, playing his intricate originals faster and faster.  (Performance speeds have been inching up for decades: consider the Django-phenomenon.)  And for most instrumentalists, not just string players, tone gets sacrificed to speed.

Emma Fisk, a romantic at heart, doesn’t turn Joe into unicorns-and-rainbows on this CD, but she does remind us of Joe’s affectionate side, the part of his character that would linger over long tones and leisurely phrases.  She doesn’t slow everything down, but she does change the mood from headlong briskness to a kinder, easier embrace.  In this she is partnered splendidly by the elegant guitarist James Birkett, who is lyrical beyond everything else.  He is new to me, but he is kind to the ears at every turn, without being overly sentimental.  So even the faster numbers on this disc — RAGGIN’ and MY HONEY’S — are sweet saunters instead of being mad sprints.  The music breathes comfortably and well.

Here you can witness Emma and James making music — video and audio — through the media of Vimeo, Soundcloud, and YouTube.  And here you can celebrate the Spring, reward yourself for good behavior, or warm someone’s heart — by buying one or more of these life-enhancing discs.

A delightfully mournful sample, James’ EDDIE’S LAMENT:

May your happiness increase!

A SUMMER NIGHT, EIGHT YEARS AGO (June 7, 2009)

Good times, fine sounds.  the calendar says they’re gone; we know they aren’t.

The Ear Inn has been host to gatherings of joyous insight on Sunday nights since July 2007, and I think I was there for the second gathering of The EarRegulars — who may not have been named just yet (Jon-Erik Kellso, Howard Alden, Frank Tate): I was converted rapidly, although going to work with an early teaching schedule has made me at times a lax postulant.

Here’s a delightful interlude from the summer of 2009: SOME OF THESE DAYS, played so buoyantly by Matt Munisteri, guitar; Duke Heitger, trumpet; Harvey Tibbs, trombone; Dan Block, clarinet; Neal Miner, string bass.  And the final minutes of this — with Duke evoking another New Orleans boy who made good — give me chills of the best sort:

You don’t need to climb the Himalayas for spiritual uplift: visit the Ear Inn on Sunday nights; your pilgrimage requires only the C or the 1 train or perhaps an automobile . . . see you there sometime soon!  In the interim, watch, hear, and marvel.

May your happiness increase

THE WORLD IS MAD

Count Basie and his Orchestra recorded this fast blues, two sides of a 78, on August 8, 1940.  They had good reasons for that title: look up the date in a history of the Second World War and you bang into the Luftwaffe and the Battle of Britain, its thirtieth day.

And if you’d want other evidence of cosmic distress, Johnny Dodds died on that day, age 48.  (How come no one writes about him as short-lived, one of jazz’s early deaths?)

But here’s Basie.

Part One, with that glorious rhythm section, Buddy Tate, the trombone section featuring the under-featured Vic Dickenson, the saxophone section leading in to Lester Young (with Jo Jones commenting behind him):

Part Two (with apologies for the intrusive advertisement) with a little more Lester, Walter Page and that rhythm section, then riffing alongside a very explicit Jo Jones, more from Walter, Lester out in the open over stop-time chords, trumpet section hosannas, more Jo . . . . and a s low-motion ending:

I write this post — oddly enough — with only a tangential although reverent nod to Basie.  If you are a sentient informed adult, you might think at many points during your day that, yes, the world IS mad.  If you think everything is just peachy, I envy you your sweet oblivion.

For me, Basie’s title is correct but one consonant is off.  I propose, rather, THE WORLD IS SAD.  Thanks to Matt Munisteri, I read this article this morning:

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2017/09/has-the-smartphone-destroyed-a-generation/534198/?utm_source=nextdraft&utm_medium=email

It is terrible, and terribly worth reading.  The answer to the rhetorical question posed by the title is YES.  Now, it would be easy to shake our heads at “those dopey kids and their phones,” and since I have taught 17-21 year olds for decades, I know the difference between THEN (pre-phone) and NOW — the article says that 2012 was the tipping point, when more than fifty percent owned a smartphone.  I see the manifestations as attention deficit disorder, inability to concentrate, unwillingness to have what we used to think of as normal social contact (i.e., speaking to the person next to you), a world shrunk down into a tiny bright screen.  What the article says that is new and saddening is that the young people who are addicted to their phones are not only socially crippled and terminally insular, but that they are depressed and world-weary: weary of a world they don’t care to engage in.

And I see the manifestations in my generation: the couple at dinner who are silently staring into their phones; the couple I once saw on the subway, all snuggly, she half-asleep on her handsome Beau, who took the opportunity to scroll down and see what had happened in the four minutes he’s been away.

I wonder where this willful isolation will lead us as a culture.  The smartphone world is the complete antithesis to dancing to Basie, listening to Basie on the radio, playing your new Vocalion 78 for your pals, or even (heaven forbid) learning a musical instrument and starting a band.

At one point, when cellphones were new, I said whimsically to a friend that I wanted them to be prohibitively expensive, with certain exceptions: you could call and say, “I’m going to be late,” “I miss you,” “I love you,” “Is there anything you wanted me to pick up on the way home,” “You don’t sound right.  Is everything OK?” — those calls would be free OR the provider would pay you for making them.  Now I think that my whimsy was too tame.  I’d like to see people’s smartphones self-destruct if they took them out in the middle of a conversation. I’d like to see smartphone use socially relegated to private places, in the same way that flatulence, onanism, and inside-the-nose interior decorating are (among those who have some tact).

It won’t happen, but now when I go back to teaching in September, I will get to add another toxic side-effect to the smartphone’s power, not just boredom, inertia, narrowness — but despair.  Who would have thought?

I’m a relic, so I seek the company of other people rather than my phone.  Human contact — with the right people — is my joy.  But don’t tell anyone.  I don’t want the authorities to arrest me for rampant archaism.

May your happiness increase!

THE SUPERMOON IS GONE. THE GLOW REMAINS.

In the middle of November 2016, we were closer to the moon than we had been since 1948 . . . and we won’t be this close again for a long time, making that huge orb in the sky something to remember.  I hope my readers were able to glance up, whether through their windows or, better, being out in the mystical moist night air, to see this wonder for themselves.  Here is a shot of a Supermoon over Rio de Janeiro.

super-moon-3

The Supermoon made me think of all the music and poetry associated with lunar ecstasies, all the love songs: GET OUT AND GET UNDER THE MOON, MOON SONG, WHEN THE MOON COMES OVER THE MOUNTAIN, MOONLIGHT BECOMES YOU — a very long list.  We love the moon because she is mutable, that is, ever changing, and she reminds us to cling to what brings us joy, because we know that it’s all rapidly moving towards us and away and towards us again. And a phenomenon like the Supermoon reminds us, I hope, of the possibility of joy in our lives.

Of course this post is based in a memorable performance of a memorable song. But first, a four-bar prelude.

Video fetishists, with long lenses and wide-open apertures, will find what follows visually inferior to my best work. I bought my first video camera (a treacherous Sony with many whims) in 2008, and started bringing it to gigs soon after. That camera was not the most sophisticated, so both image and sound are slightly dull.

But not the music, which has an on-the-spot compositional beauty.

Sunday night at The Ear Inn — where the great lunar worshippers gather — with The EarRegulars: Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Neal Miner, string bass; Duke Heitger, trumpet; guests Tamar Korn, vocal; Dan Block, clarinet; Harvey Tibbs, trombone.

“I’ll always remember / That Moonglow gave me you.”  What could be nicer?

May your happiness increase!

THE GOLDEN AGE IS HERE AND NOW (PART TWO): JON-ERIK KELLSO, SCOTT ROBINSON, MATT MUNISTERI, GREG COHEN at THE EAR INN (May 15, 2016)

EAR INN sign

I was at The Ear Inn last Sunday night, delighting in the sounds so generously offered by The EarRegulars.  So it seems the most natural thing to share with you the second half of my post on the beauty laid before us on May 15, 2016, and its implications for people devoted to that beautiful phenomenon, jazz as created by living musicians in front of an appreciative audience.

In that post, you’ll hear two glorious performances by Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Scott Robinson, tenor saxophone, octavin, bass taragoto; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Greg Cohen, string bass.

Here are two more extended musical journeys — with a small travelogue by Scott Robinson about his unusual instruments in the middle.

Mister Morton’s WOLVERINE BLUES, beautifully presented. Pay close attention to the closing minutes, where the gentlemen of the ensemble add some wonderfully surrealistic ornamentation to the familiar themes.  At the close, you’ll hear an excited voice adding an unexpurgated affirmation: that’s the young reed wizard Evan Arntzen, seated to my right at the bar:

That deserves more than one viewing / hearing.  And I agree with Evan.

Scott Robinson is always asked about his magical musical implements, and this time I captured his words and gestures on video:

And, finally, the wistful question, DO YOU EVER THINK OF ME? — served hot:

I think that what the EarRegulars (and many other noble strivers) create is life-enhancing.  But without getting too didactic, such beauty deserves and needs our tender care, which takes the shape of active participation and personal support. You know how to do that.

May your happiness increase!

THE GOLDEN AGE IS HERE AND NOW (PART ONE): JON-ERIK KELLSO, SCOTT ROBINSON, MATT MUNISTERI, GREG COHEN at THE EAR INN (May 15, 2016)

EAR INN signMany people devoted to certain art forms are afflicted with incurable nostalgia. “What wouldn’t I give to hear Henrietta McGillicuddy play the blues on her Eb alto horn?  They say she could play a whole year without repeating herself!” And it doesn’t limit itself to jazz.  “Oh, yeah?  Pergolesi could kick your guy’s ass! And on a bad day Stuart Davis was better than anything now hanging in MOMA.”

I could go on, and possibly I already have.

But I remember a refrigerator magnet I saw in the very early Eighties, that had these words on it:

TIME TO BE HAPPY

Sage advice.  I understand the deep longing to hear one more note of Bix, of Bird, of Billie — to time-travel back to hear Louis in 1929 or Blanton with Jeter-Pillars.  But while some are busily dreaming of such things (I think of Miniver Cheevy with his collection of Black Swan acetates), the present is both glowing and going.  As in going away.

So I am always urging the people who love this art form to enjoy what is happening in the present moment rather than licking the dust off the statues. A hundred years from today, should we survive as a species, I suspect that cultural historians will be writing about the Golden Age of the early twenty-first century. And if they aren’t, they will be ignoring some irreplaceably precious evidence.

Here are two glorious examples (with two more to come) of the superb art that is happening now.  The artists are Matt Munisteri, guitar; Scott Robinson, tenor saxophone and unusual reeds; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Greg Cohen, string bass — recorded just this month at the Soho Savoy, The Ear Inn (326 Spring Street, New York City) at one of the regular Sunday-night epiphanies from about eight to about eleven PM.

WHEN I  GROW TOO OLD TO DREAM:

 

A “peppy” LOUISIANA:

Yes, we could all sit at home and play our records.  But beauty, completely satisfying, is happening all around us.

May your happiness increase!

“WOULD YOU CARE TO SWING?” (Part Three): JON-ERIK KELLSO, SCOTT ROBINSON, MATT MUNISTERI, PAT O’LEARY, and ELDAR TSALIKOV at THE EAR INN (March 20, 2016)

It was a truly glorious evening of musical camaraderie at The Ear Inn (326 Spring Street, Soho, New York City) but that’s completely typical of what happens when the  EarRegulars get together on Sunday nights from around eight to around eleven.

EAR INN 2012

Here and here are wonderful highlights from earlier in the evening — marvels created by Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Scott Robinson, tenor saxophone and mellophone; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Pat O’Leary, string bass.  I call them “marvels” with complete confidence: listen closely to the inspired conversations that take place in each performance (this is a listening band), the sonic variety — each player making his instrument speak with a wholly personal voice — the melodic inventiveness, the wit and tenderness, and the swing.

For the closing three performances, Scott Robinson also brought out his rare Albert system “C” clarinet with the Picou bell — rarity upon rarity (Clint Baker owns one — it was Tom Sharpsteen’s — and Alan Cooper handmade his, but how many others are there on the planet?) which has a lovely persuasive sound.  And the young Russian reed wizard Eldar Tsalikov spent his last evening of his New York trip, happily, here, playing alto saxophone and clarinet.

For Lester and Buck and the Kansas City Six — in some subliminal ways — a romping ‘WAY DOWN YONDER IN NEW ORLEANS with some of the same lightness:

For Herschel, Lester, and the Decca Basie band, BLUE AND SENTIMENTAL*:

And for pure fun, IT’S BEEN SO LONG:

Lovely, fully satisfying inventiveness.  Every Sunday night at about eight.

Two footnotes.  One (*) is a small mystery that so far I haven’t found an answer to.  When Herschel Evans died in 1939, he was not yet thirty.  And somewhere I have read that he was married and that his wife was around the same age.  What happened to Mrs. Evans?

Two.  Some viewers comment acidly (here and YouTube) that people in the audience are talking. But to rage in print at people on a video seems ineffective. I delete these comments, because there’s enough anger in the world as it is.

I hear the chatter, too, but I am grateful for the music, no matter what is happening around it.  As an analogy, I think of someone finding an unissued Louis test pressing and then being furious because the disc has surface noise. “People will talk,” as the expression goes.  Accept what you can’t change, and bring your silently appreciative self to a jazz club to reset the balance.

May your happiness increase!

“WOULD YOU CARE TO SWING?” (Part Two): JON-ERIK KELLSO, SCOTT ROBINSON, MATT MUNISTERI, PAT O’LEARY at THE EAR INN (March 20, 2016)

Through the generosity of the musicians, I present some more glorious music created and recorded at The Ear Inn just this month, on March 20, 2016.  And for those who missed the first helping, here it is: swing happiness with great feeling created by Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Scott Robinson, tenor saxophone, mellophone, and more; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Pat O’Leary, string bass.

EAR INN 2012

All of this happens when the EarRegulars assemble for one of their Sunday evening raptures (around eight o’clock to around eleven, flexibly) at 326 Spring Street, Soho, New York City.

And I now present two more delights from that evening.  (I was going to call this post THE EGGS AND YOU, but the legal staff was not amused, so I dropped the idea.)

I’M PUTTING ALL MY EGGS IN ONE BASKET is the EarRegulars’ nod to Easter, and to Irving Berlin, and to Fred Astaire, and to Louis (whose 1936 Decca recording of this song also features brightly popping drum accents from Stan King).  No drums here, just floating improvisations:

IF I HAD YOU — very groovy, very mello(w), but also sweet and tender:

There’s more to come.  Bless these musicians and their Spring Street shrine.

May your happiness increase!

“WOULD YOU CARE TO SWING?”: JON-ERIK KELLSO, SCOTT ROBINSON, MATT MUNISTERI, PAT O’LEARY at THE EAR INN (March 20, 2016)

EAR INN 2012

The EarRegulars and The Ear Inn (the latter at 326 Spring Street, Soho, New York — pictured above in October 2012) offer us sweet rewards.  The Inn will soon celebrate its two hundredth anniversary; the EarRegulars are younger but no less beloved.  On Sunday nights at The Ear, a small, gloriously congenial group of musicians gathers to remind us how fine being alive — with ears — can be.  The EarRegulars are led by trumpeter Jon-Erik Kellso, and on March 20, 2016, Jon was joined by his brilliant colleague, Matt Munisteri, guitar; Scott Robinson, tenor saxophone (with the delicious sounds of the mellophone added on later); Pat O’Leary, string bass.

The EarRegulars can tussle in swingtime with the very best, but that Sunday the mood was more gently ruminative: rather than abducting us by force, they wooed and persuaded.  “Hey, do you have a free evening?  Come along with us for sweet swinging music.  You’ll love it.”  As we do.

OUR MONDAY DATE:

BLUE TURNING GRAY OVER YOU:

TEA FOR TWO:

A note about Jon-Erik’s horn, which not only sounds beautiful but has a beautiful personal connection, as he explains: “That horn was my first, and was my dad’s.  A Martin Handcraft Imperial.  About 1934, my dad bought it new as a kid with money earned working in his father’s gas station/garage in Detroit.  I messed it up in high school marching band, and it sat in a closet in my mom’s house all these years.  I recently had it fixed up, to honor my dad’s memory and have it as a memento, and lo and behold, it plays great now!”

It certainly does.  I think we are privileged to share the planet with these musicians, who so generously give of themselves . . . and not on Sunday nights only.  We live in a Golden Age, if we are only wise enough to recognize it.

More to come.

May your happiness increase!

PUREBREDS AT THE EAR INN (2016 and 2012)

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Thanks to photographer / chronicler Lynn Redmile, we have this shining example of what happens at The Ear Inn, 326 Spring Street, Soho, New York City, on Sunday nights, because of the EarRegulars — and what happened on January 18, 2016.  The text for this mellow sermon is Handy’s YELLOW DOG BLUES.  Lynn explains, “Each Sunday, at the historic Ear Inn on Spring Street, NYC, the EarRegulars play some of the coolest hot jazz, with a rotating lineup of musicians in their quartet, often joined by others in a jam session. This session featured founder Jon-Erik Kellso (trumpet), co-founder Matt Munisteri (guitar), Evan Arntzen (reeds) and Neal Miner (bass) and joined by Danny Tobias (trumpet), Mike Davis (cornet), Balázs Szalóky (trumpet) and Paul Brandenberg (cornet).”

That’s enough to make anyone howl.

When one DOG isn’t enough . . . let us return to those halcyon days of yore, specifically September 16, 2012, when I had a video camera ready for the closing song of a Sunday evening, when the original quartet was Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Harry Allen, tenor saxophone; Chris Flory, guitar; Neal Miner, string bass. As the evening progressed, the Friends came in: Pete and Will Anderson, Dan Block, Alex Hoffman, saxophone; Eli Preminger, Danny Tobias, trumpet; Doug Finke, trombone.

Remarkable — but just another example of the ordinary magic that happens on Sunday nights at The Ear.

And perhaps not by coincidence, the Westminster Dog Show is coming to New York City on February 15 and 16, 2016.  Will this mean there will be more sitting-in at The Ear Inn, or sitting down, or sitting and staying? We’ll see.  I’ll ask my authority on such matters, Brynn White.

“Barry!  Treats for everyone!”

May your happiness increase!

HAPPINESS, EVERY SUNDAY AT EIGHT (DANNY TOBIAS, SCOTT ROBINSON, JAMES CHIRILLO, TAL RONEN, MIKE DAVIS at The Ear Inn, Sunday, October 4, 2015)

The Ear Inn, 2012 Photograph by Alexandra Marks

The Ear Inn, 2012 Photograph by Alexandra Marks

The regular EarRegulars — Jon-Erik Kellso and Matt Munisteri and friends — were spreading joy elsewhere on Sunday, October 4, 2015.  (They’ll be back!)

But joy was certainly spread in abundance at The Ear Inn (326 Spring Street, Soho, New York) by “the irregular EarRegulars”) and was captured for your pleasure by the fine photographer / videographer Lynn Redmile.

The creators were Danny Tobias, cornet; Scott Robinson, taragato, tenor saxophone, and a diminutive Eb alto horn; James Chirillo, guitar; Tal Ronen, string bass — with a guest appearance by Mike Davis, cornet, on ONCE IN A WHILE.

I WANT TO BE HAPPY:

ONCE IN A WHILE:

Remarkable music in a remarkable place . . . try it for yourself one Sunday night. Meet Pirate Barry, eat a salad, have a wonderful time.

May your happiness increase!

A SECOND EAR-RING: JON-ERIK KELLSO and The EarRegulars: MATT MUNISTERI, EVAN CHRISTOPHER, KERRY LEWIS (on JAZZOLOGY)

The EarRegulars have come out with a second CD, and it’s delicious, even before one unwraps the package: the ingenious cover art is by Cecile McLorin Salvant:

EARREGULARS CD Jazzology

The first EarRegular CD featured Kellso, Munisteri, Scott Robinson, and Greg Cohen:

EarReg 1 CD

The splendid new disc features a New York / New Orleans hybrid: Kellso, trumpet; Munisteri,guitar / vocal; Evan Christopher, clarinet, and Kerry Lewis, string bass.  And they groove spectacularly.

And here are the notes that someone enthusiastic wrote:

I am proud to have followed The EarRegulars with delight, rapt attentiveness, and recording devices, since they first began to transform the cosmos on Sunday, June 17, 2007, at The Ear Inn (326 Spring Street, Soho, New York City). They’ve been consistently inspiring, a twenty-first century version of Fifty-Second Street many blocks to the south. (My only problem with The EarRegulars is that I can’t decide if they IS or ARE, for reasons beyond the grammatical.)

They are a Marvel of Nature, an expansive sonic orchestra that masquerades as a tidy improvising quartet. They model democracy in swingtime, where each of the four players is audible, recognizable, playfully sharing musical heart-truths. In their native habitat, they are small enough to fit in a New York corner (The Ear Inn is a compact place), where they reverberate not loudly but mightily. Their mailing address is the intersection of Translucence and Stomp, just off Lyrical.

And although the Official Jazz Historians try to force music into restrictive boxes, The EarRegulars create timeless and limitless music, joyous lyrical improvising. One hears the Ancestors (who are grinning) but this band is a triumph of the Here and Now. They cavort in the present moment rather than offering shelf-stable, freeze-dried jazz repertory. Their musical conversation is collaborative joy: one hears four creative individuals, easily amused, sweetly competitive, extending each others’ thoughts, capping each others’ jokes.

The pleasure, not only mine, of witnessing The EarRegulars live, Sunday after glorious Sunday, has been the feeling, “This is the way I imagine musicians play when all distractions and tensions are removed, when the ideal audience fully understands them, when they are surrounded by love, free to express themselves fully. What a blessing this is.” This bicoastal version of the band offers its leader, Jon-Erik Kellso, and his inspiring colleague, Matt Munisteri, alongside New Orleans heroes Evan Christopher and Kerry Lewis. Their sounds need no explication, merely your most fervent close listening. Each track has beauties it reveals on the third hearing, the twentieth, their approach a beautiful oxymoron, a delicate ferocity. And their flexible, playful approach reminds me of what Ruby Braff would do with any gathering of musicians: scatter them on the floor like puzzle pieces and reassemble them in surprising, fluid ways. So this quartet becomes a series of trios, duos, and solos, never predictable, never the Same Old Thing of ensemble-solos-ensemble. And the sounds!

The repertoire is gorgeously uplifting. Even though I have heard The EarRegulars take the most familiar song and make it new, this CD is full of delights. Jon-Erik’s OUT OF THE GATE has to be the soundtrack for an animated film, LITTLE JAZZ! — where superhero Roy Eldridge vanquishes the enemies of Swing. His EARREGULARITY (something to be sought out, not feared) is a 2015 ragtime dance. Evan’s SURRENDER BLUE is so touching! I hear it as lullaby superimposed on love song, the most tender music imaginable. The other songs have wondrous associations: the Casa Loma Orchestra, Benny Carter, the Hot Five, Ivie and Duke, Louis and Papa Joe, Fate Marable . . . all memorable but rare.

I think of these sounds as healing defense against the wounding clamor of the world, reminders that the cosmos will welcome us. Start with IN THE LAND OF BEGINNING AGAIN – sung so soulfully by Matt – and you will agree. I am honored to live in a time and place where such joy is not only possible but freely offered. Bless The EarRegulars and may they prosper. Forever.

Although I find it inconceivable that anyone encountering JAZZ LIVES would be unfamiliar with the EarRegulars, here they are — at least three-fourths of the latest combination — onstage at the Louisiana Music Factory.

BLUES IN MY HEART:

IN THE LAND OF BEGINNING AGAIN (vocal Matt):

Of course, you can purchase the disc from Jon-Erik at The Ear Inn or at other gigs, or visit here.  It is on Amazon as a download, and probably iTunes.  And available direct from Jazzology and Louisiana Music Factory.

Here’s a song direct from the CD — a poignant version of SMOKE RINGS — but do the right thing and help support the art and the artists by buying it:

One way to get a double dose of this joy is to visit Symphony Space at Broadway at 95th Street in New York City on November 2, 2015, at 7:15 PM  for the Sidney Bechet Society’s season finale, “Ear Inn, Uptown!” which will feature Jon-Erik Kellso, Evan Christopher, Matt Munisteri, singer Brianna Thomas, and others in a jam session saluting the jazz scene at The Ear Inn, the city’s oldest bar.  Tickets $30 in advance via mailorder from the Society, and $35 at the box office: Peter Norton Symphony Space, 2537 Broadway at 95th Street, New York, NY 10025.  (212) 864-5400.

May your happiness increase!

SOLITUDE, AND THEN SOME: JON-ERIK KELLSO, SCOTT ROBINSON, HOWARD ALDEN, FRANK TATE (ALLEGHENY JAZZ PARTY, September 19, 2014)

SOLITUDE Columbia

Four of my New York heroes — Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Scott Robinson, clarinet, tenor saxophone, taragoto, cornet; Howard Alden, guitar; Frank Tate, string bass — onstage at the 2014 Allegheny Jazz Party, playing a most famous Ellington composition that, oddly enough, doesn’t get played that much, SOLITUDE, with great eloquence and  simplicity, in front of that rarest of things, a hushed, attentive audience:

No fancy arrangements, just beautiful solos and ensemble playing.

SOLITUDE Victor

Then, time for a Frolic on SOME OF THESE DAYS, which starts as a brass extravaganza and then builds:

SOME OF THESE DAYS

Quite amazing, I think, and I’ve been following these four musicians for more than a decade now.  This is just a small sample of what characteristically takes place at the Allegheny Jazz Party, a quiet spectacular of a weekend in Cleveland, Ohio. To have this experience for yourself, you might want to visit here to find out about the Party, taking place this September 10-13, 2015.

And . . . . Jon and Matt Munisteri and a cast of wonderful characters have just released their second CD as “The EarRegulars”: the first also features Scott Robinson and Greg Cohen; the latest one (on Jazzology Records) features Evan Christopher and Kerry Lewis.  Delightful music.

May your happiness increase!

FOR THE LOVE OF JOE MURANYI (March 9, 2015): BELA SZALOKY, MATT MUNISTERI, SCOTT ROBINSON, JON-ERIK KELLSO, PAT O’LEARY (Part Two)

If you haven’t seen Part One of this glorious concert, here it is.  We’ll wait for you to catch up.  The facts, for those who find them essential, are this.

On Monday, March 9, 2015, a wonderful jazz concert entitled “Joe Muranyi: A Tribute from America and Hungary” took place in New York City under the aegis of the Hungarian Cultural Center. I (and my camera) were lucky enough to be there — and here is the second part of the concert for you to savor.

The remarkable musician Béla Szalóky — a wonder on both trumpet and trombone — joined forces with the EarRegulars, those marvelous denizens of The Ear Inn (326 Spring Street, Soho, New York City) on Sunday nights: Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Scott Robinson, tenor saxophone, Joe’s taragoto and clarinet; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Pat O’Leary, string bass.

It was a marvelous evening of inspired music in the most deliciously quiet surroundings. Thanks to the head of the Hungarian Cultural Center, Gergely Romsics, for his gentle stewardship.

We start off with Yearning as scored for Jon-Erik, Matt, and Pat: GEE, BABY, AIN’T I GOOD TO YOU?

And everyone comes back onstage for a sweetly swinging I’M GONNA SIT RIGHT DOWN AND WRITE MYSELF A LETTER (Scott on taragoto):

Scott’s deeply searching solo taragoto performance of a Hungarian folk song,

Krasznahorka büszke vára (THE PROUD CASTLE OF THE TOWN), which then leads in to one of Joe’s favorite songs that he played with Louis Armstrong, OLE MISS:

Something else inspired and so beautifully performed by Louis, A KISS TO BUILD A DREAM ON, with Scott playing Joe’s tenor saxophone:

For Louis, again — BACK HOME AGAIN IN INDIANA:

And an encore, a blues by Pee Wee Russell that Joe often played, PEE WEE’S BLUES:

I know comparisons are odious, and hyperbole even more so, but I think this was one of the greatest musical evenings of my life.  And since I think that “the dead” don’t leave us when they separate from their corporeal selves, I believe entirely that Joe is very happy with the music played here and the love it expresses.  I was honored to be at this concert and am honored to be able to share it with you.

May your happiness increase!