Interlude 01 - Kenny Garrett

Kenny Garrett, the alto-saxophonist of Miles Davis in his last years (with a portfolio of co-operations with masters like Freddy Hubbard, Mc Coy Tiner, Herbie Hancock, Elvin Jones and more recently Pharoah Sanders among others) gave a CD release concert at Iridium last night. The CD is called Sketches of MD and it was recorded live at the same Times Square club. I went to see him after dining at Ruby Foo's, my favorite Oriental restaurant in the area - mostly for romantic reasons.

From time to time I have been wondering how John Coltrane would play today if he could come back - a stupid question, but how many stupid questions we ask ourselves every day then. Of course John Coltrane was what he was because he was born in a specific time and place and therefore it can not exist something like a today's John Coltrane, although it would be a beautiful thing to have him back. However, when Garrett started to play I couldn't resist the temptation to close my eyes and think about that wish. 

The introduction was powerful - there was inspiration and rage and a spirituality that recalled A Love Supreme - and made me feel happy, very happy to be there. OK, Garrett doesn't play tenor saxophone (but makes his alto sound like a tenor at times) and OK, he gives a lot of space to Hammond sound in his band (and I still prefer classical piano although Benito Gonzales - the young musicians on keys at the concert- is blessed with a tremendous technique and made a truly impressive introduction of the third piece of the concert, Intro to Africa) but he plays with a grace that comes from a perfect blend of technical mastery and creativity. He doesn't reach the intensity of Coltrane, who was immense, the closest thing on heart to the Adamo that almost touches God's finger on the Cappella Sistina; but he has still time to grow and he will, and he kept me happy to be there all along the concert.

Even more so when he played a duet with Mulgrew Miller at the piano, inspired by a Japanise traditional song (Garrett's last studio album, Beyond the Wall - with a revealing picture of the Great Wall on the cover - is influenced here and there by Asian music). At a certain point, Garrett started to inject a vein of African Arabic music into the theme, creating the mirage of a mosque in the middle of the Honshu island; then he started to fragment the theme, almost with rage, leaving pieces of it floating in the air. Then he got tender again, gathered again those pieces together one by one like a child who collects snowflakes with his hands, and closed the piece with soft, oriental grace. Not many musicians out there are capable of doing the same.

Then the band came back and they ended the concert with Happy People, a funky tune that sounded very appropriate as Iridium was full of happy people at that point.

I found out that Kenny Garrett is just one month younger than me (he was born on Oct. 9th of my same year). Now I have two of his CDs signed by him, and this is me with him - "the real Kenny G" as the guy at Iridium introduced him on stage - and my evidently happy face:  

North America, Oct.08 - part I: Once upon a time...

Once upon a time, there was this good boy who was always organizing everything well in advance, all the details, a real virgo, everything well organized before hitting the road. Then he realized that one of life's favorite hobbies is to re-mix the cards, no matter how well you plan your schedule. So the good boy started to feel less ashamed not to behave like a good boy all the time, abdicated from virgo and signed up as rat, and passed the ball to life: "if you believe you are so good and funny, then show me how you play". So this time he left with just a return ticket and 3 weeks in North America with no reservations, no arrangements, nothing more than a guideline and the wish to stay on the road (in the real sense: fly as less as possible, drive as much as possible). He arrived on a Monday afternoon in Houston, Texas and discovered that Air France (no comment.. otherwise someone could say that Italians have a prejudice against those French people and it is no true, it's just them, they never get it right) lost his baggage. Life was laughing at him again: "even if you don't make plans, I know how to bother your no-plans plan.." 

Then the day after he got his bags and was on the road, from Houston to Austin, from Austin to Dallas, from Dallas to Kansas City, from Kansas City to St. Louis, and then crossing Missouri north up to Chicago, Illinois.

Six days, six cities, hundreds of miles under big, clear skies. The first night he slept in a cheap motel and imagined to be a beatnik. The second night he slept in a better hotel with a secret desire in his mind. The third night he couldn't sleep. The forth night he thought of how easy would be to get lost - how easy it is to get lost when you think that nobody would care, that probably nobody cares about you even if you want to believe that no, there is someone who cares. Then the fifth night he elaborated the satellite theory and had a better sleep.  

Then while on the road he also noticed one funny thing: when you drive, the more you drive the more the sky becomes dark. So he thought: if I stop and put the reverse gear and drive backward, will the sky start to brighten up?

But when you have a no-plans plan, and therefore you don't plan to die, you don't drive backward on a North American highway. You drive forward, and the sky becomes darker, and you never know what would happen if you could use the reverse gear. Like in life. 

Then the sky becomes so dark that you see a last hint of light on your back and enter into the night. He entered into the night and had dinner in a place in the middle of nowhere, with the parking place full of trucks. The floor of the restaurant was sticky and made a funny sound when he walked on it, a sound like: "swchtwucht, swchtwucht".

 

Then he got out of the dark and he was in New York City.

God had blessed him with a marvelous present: an apartment all for him for 5 nights, a very nice apartment and free of charge, so he could do what he always does when he travels: pretending he is not a tourist or a business man but a local instead. So on Sunday (only one week from when he left, and already so many things and so many cities and so many thoughts) he walks from Battery Park to Tribeca and then Soho, where he meets another rat, this one a big rat:

  
And then he realizes that the more you walk the more the sky becomes dark. He thought about starting to walk backward but was too shy, so he lost the chance to see if in that way the sky would have started to brighten up. The sky got darker, the shops started to close and there was not much people left in Soho.

So he turned east towards Little Italy where if you pay there is a guy dressed like one of the Soprano's with a big fat cigar in his mouth that sits at your table (if you are outdoor, if you are indoor he doesn't have the big fat cigar but still looks pretty much like a mafia guy) and you can take a picture with him. He walked faster and soon he was in Chinatown. This is him in front of  the Shanghai Cafè, who knows why:

, and this is what he saw when he sat inside the Shanghai Cafè and thought: "the dumplings look good here but I'd rather prefer to be in Shanghai", who knows why...

Then it was the night and so many people going who knows where and why in New York City at night.

 

Maybe to play pools, drink cheap whisky and smoke cigarettes and wait for an angel to come and bring them to paradise.

Summer: a trip into myself and my future

Yes I went to a business trip this summer, but the truth is it was a trip into myself and into my future. And it was a beautiful trip. We always look for new doors to open and that trip was a door behind which I see a possibility of happiness. That's it, sometimes there is no need to say too much.

And that one (yes, "that one", an expression that now after the last Obama/McCain debate will sound forever as understated arrogance and disrespect... but if Obama was "that one" I am happy to be a "that one" too...) is me just before leaving. It's me at the Bruce Springsteen concert (another "that one" then...) at the Camp Nou in Barcelona. His songs often talk about being on the road, the concert was great and a great way to start the trip. In the old times before a long trip they were going to the church to get a benediction, that was my benediction.