two takes
“Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child,” aka “Motherless Child” (trad.)
Bessie Griffin, live, Holland, 1972
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Prince, live
passings
Cecil Taylor, pianist, composer, bandleader, April 25, 1929-April 5, 2018
Today we celebrate his singular musical presence by revisiting a few favorites.
Live, 1981 (Imagine the Sound)
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With Max Roach (drums), live, New York (Columbia University), 2000
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With Harri Sjostrom (soprano saxophone), Tristan Honsinger (cello), Thurman Barker (marimba), Paul Lovens (drums), live, Germany (Hamburg), 1995
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I try to imitate on the piano the leaps in space a dancer makes.
—Cecil Taylor
what’s new
Anderson .Paak, “Til It’s Over” (“Welcome Home,” directed for Apple by Spike Jonze, featuring FKA twigs), 3/5/18
timeless
Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers (AB, drums; Lee Morgan, trumpet; Benny Golson, tenor saxophone; Bobby Timmons, piano; Jymie Merritt, bass), “Moanin'” (B. Timmons), live, Belgium (Brussels), 1959
more
Salif Keita, live, London, c. 2002
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lagniappe
reading table
We humans—
squirming around
among the blossoming flowers.—Kobayashi Issa, 1763-1827 (translated from Japanese by Robert Hass)
tonight in Chicago
They’ll be playing at Corbett v. Dempsey.
Peter Evans (trumpet), Levy Lorenzo (electronics, percussion), live, New York, 2016
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lagniappe
art beat: other day, Art Institute of Chicago
Xu Longsen (1956-), from Light of Heaven (through June 24th)

back to church
“Until I Die,” Pilgrim Rest Baptist Church, Winston-Salem, N.C., 2001
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lagniappe
reading table
God’s Grandeur
by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)The world is charged with the grandeur of God.It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oilCrushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soilIs bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;And though the last lights off the black West wentOh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —Because the Holy Ghost over the bentWorld broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
*****
random sights
other day, Oak Park, Ill.