tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87461855297667865282024-02-19T07:46:14.301-08:00Asili the Journal BlogspotHighlights the contemporary work of Poet/Novelist Joseph McNair.Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.comBlogger304125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-68323325505371892102010-07-07T01:44:00.000-07:002010-07-07T19:37:45.121-07:00remembering brother jack mcduff (2)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncPtvX59GAwDKsBDSdDLXydAH5x7EfEIAYUne12n_esiLcYD5ujAZ8Fza1fy0l7dUA4WvnoiBfOkobiIKtPXYsaaUe0e6ljlGXYD9PzyPYkcRFulkDcEgt30WSkpEWNdHMQ_K3nOlUys/s1600/mcduff.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncPtvX59GAwDKsBDSdDLXydAH5x7EfEIAYUne12n_esiLcYD5ujAZ8Fza1fy0l7dUA4WvnoiBfOkobiIKtPXYsaaUe0e6ljlGXYD9PzyPYkcRFulkDcEgt30WSkpEWNdHMQ_K3nOlUys/s320/mcduff.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491109259730438322" border="0" /></a><br /><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">remembering brother jack mcduff</span></span></b></span></div></span></span></b><div><b></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b>(1926 -2001)</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><br /></b></span></span>one of the funkiest, most soulful styles<br />of all time his blues-soaked solos &<br />rock solid basslines balanced by repetitive<br />grooves, melodies, & melodic hooks<br />revealed an artist in full possession<br />of his voice as an organist in the formative<br />soul jazz genre that lifted him up from the<br />earth & drew unto him no less than<br />george benson & boss tenor gene jughead<br />ammons who together on one date built the<br />architecture of the soul jazz vernacular to<br />span hard bop & jazz-funk to sundry acid<br />jazz destinations, & for brother jack to earn<br />the esteem & respect conveyed by the<br />honorific “brother” which encoded his<br />elevated status within the idiom.</div><br /><br />©Joseph McNair;2010<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/St25UkoTXwo&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/St25UkoTXwo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-5055974596020637602010-07-06T19:25:00.000-07:002010-07-07T19:38:16.995-07:00remembering jimmy mcgriff (1)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjKv7LZJ3n91BuB9bLY7Gj-xEjNTtDKW_45OiwDl060xC9iGbVPuQGY6gEhdn-wVwZF3NDN6I5CsPkN3i10WVUgJwR-nIuMjyDxMjQ_6FtFz4aMjcFB16bHiSj7zeclBQXV3WEOhUKZFE/s1600/jimmy_mcgriff_mr.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjKv7LZJ3n91BuB9bLY7Gj-xEjNTtDKW_45OiwDl060xC9iGbVPuQGY6gEhdn-wVwZF3NDN6I5CsPkN3i10WVUgJwR-nIuMjyDxMjQ_6FtFz4aMjcFB16bHiSj7zeclBQXV3WEOhUKZFE/s320/jimmy_mcgriff_mr.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490990534720091858" border="0" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b>Remembering Jimmy McGriff</b></span></span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>he played jazz as dance<br />music, whether it was music<br />by basie, bird, ray charles<br />or james brown. Over swing,<br />shuffle & funk rhythms, he<br />laid down a focused blues homily<br />that perorated through his solos<br />with gospel-like intensity.<br />A charismatic, his soul jazz style<br />was spirited, gifted & sophisticated<br />his propulsive rhythmic feel capable<br />of exhuberant declamation &<br />persuasion. He could make that B3<br />say ow! Gave it essential nonverbal<br />elements of communication<br />that modified meaning & emotion<br />made that organ scream! establishing<br />his creds as a fire breathing blues-<br />based organist, well-versed in<br />gospel soul with a ha'mercy funky<br />groove.</b></span><br /><br />© Joseph McNair;2010<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/St25UkoTXwo&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/St25UkoTXwo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-25050630124957202552010-07-03T00:04:00.000-07:002010-07-07T03:46:10.590-07:00for black arthur blythe (10)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYdZ00JO00nUHKVt5vjZOFURARX5Jx7MiqVnLjHVAnceF0nQkdfXzYzZTzMnVX_iE0SWDMOxBmhBWmV_PNJ2DxUuzXhhfcH-aKi2jYrSpQcsnIekOTlITclytOODWK2o783PfgQ480NAE/s1600/black+arthur+blythe.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYdZ00JO00nUHKVt5vjZOFURARX5Jx7MiqVnLjHVAnceF0nQkdfXzYzZTzMnVX_iE0SWDMOxBmhBWmV_PNJ2DxUuzXhhfcH-aKi2jYrSpQcsnIekOTlITclytOODWK2o783PfgQ480NAE/s320/black+arthur+blythe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489585115580606322" border="0" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">for black arthur blythe</span><br />(1940)</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <table style="border-collapse: collapse;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"> <tbody><tr> <td style="width: 149.4pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt;" valign="top" width="149"> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>the abstract awoke in him, caused something to stir something interesting, something organic, something free in young black arthur’s blithe spirit; an event in consciousness -- an interaction in presence between artist & seminal tone, an aural vision of the sacred, a hierophany, received from tapscott in the sanctum of the pan-afrikan peoples arkestra, in his spirit’s womb chamber, that called out his consciousness, made it helically move, spiral up; pushed him out on popular bandstands. made him existentially play, his baroque tone, rich & husky, a passionate wail on high, a sweat-soaked pulsating vibrato trailing in its wake, weaving an exquisite tapestry of melody around occult scale patterns, stretching the blues to the edges of improvisation – too out for popular breakthough & an obvious target for the inevitable pushback of negation – the trial, terror error & experience of rejection, incredulity pushing him back & into the umbra of a dazzling winton’s shadow, into an unlikely wood shed. he laid there & he played there until possessed by the wave/shades of older styles which took his head, pierced the flat, polished surfaces of his genius. & he embraced them, those <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>ghostly</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b> </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>remembrances, held </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>them </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>close, closer than haunting; heard the whole of jazz’s historical process in their stylings, in his own homagic practiceplay. heard the progression from bleak self–alienation to self–unification & realization; heard implicit contradictions become explicit & knew suddenly that each stage of that process – the blues, ragtime, dixieland, swing, bebop, progressive, cool, free, hard bop, latin, post-bop, fusion nü-jazz – is the product of contradictions inherent or implicit in the preceding stage. understood that what comes into being is, at the same time, returning to nothing, connected only by ephemeral tendrils of crafted sound, the sound of becoming. & in the darkest part of that shadow, black arthur had his epiphany – to sublate the negation he must preserve in his playing useful portions of the past <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b>– </b></span>the riffs, the runs, the licks & chops; the methods of creation & divergent personal styles – while moving beyond their limitations; breathe/blow into & out of his alto a new dialectic – & he stepped out of the shadow, played the abstract concrete; played joyfully free.</b></span></b></span></p><b> </b></td> </tr> </tbody></table> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--><br /><br />© Joseph McNair;2010<br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3HewtBhRFKY&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3HewtBhRFKY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-58339085948272480512010-06-29T02:54:00.000-07:002010-06-29T03:34:50.010-07:00remembering fred anderson (9)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbzxvh_aysMcfX1CITTja6_lXb2BIiVEYf7g01zB0bZUnZt8OmmpqRKp175-0z-NVenkIe2-7vHsIR4LFVWh8bYXY7kIB3gNJ0golK2UyOgReHCeTlwNCzjTUM05YCNBfdAC5_WV9mkdM/s1600/fred+Anderson.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 317px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbzxvh_aysMcfX1CITTja6_lXb2BIiVEYf7g01zB0bZUnZt8OmmpqRKp175-0z-NVenkIe2-7vHsIR4LFVWh8bYXY7kIB3gNJ0golK2UyOgReHCeTlwNCzjTUM05YCNBfdAC5_WV9mkdM/s320/fred+Anderson.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488133347094165234" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" ><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">remembering fred anderson</span></span> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />(1929 -2010)</span> <div style="text-align: right; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;">a kwasaba</div> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />chicago legend, lone prophet on the prairie</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >booed off the band stand in ’60</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />@ the fifth jacks club in the</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />town he made his home. but stayed,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >played his free jazz in their heads,<br />made</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >their hearts embrace him; know the</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />canny prophet in his own home town.</span> <div style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;"><br /></div> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >©Joseph McNair;2010</span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AJKtnNibGl8&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AJKtnNibGl8&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-32902516096270362392010-06-28T22:32:00.000-07:002010-06-29T01:33:57.553-07:00remembering will bill davis (8)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fZwyeypTjgnOwpSlVFhRCM9lHdv8_ySJ6f9dK9CD9FCsw4iD_-Y_sngcp5q3buAbSoovxxbu0Xs-7_zfRTj5_VoE5cPpya_v1zE2czXgRpyRV3UyU-mYQ8_N9IZ3JCGVbrdrSEguoZU/s1600/Wild_Bill_Davis2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 310px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fZwyeypTjgnOwpSlVFhRCM9lHdv8_ySJ6f9dK9CD9FCsw4iD_-Y_sngcp5q3buAbSoovxxbu0Xs-7_zfRTj5_VoE5cPpya_v1zE2czXgRpyRV3UyU-mYQ8_N9IZ3JCGVbrdrSEguoZU/s320/Wild_Bill_Davis2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488068240821492626" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b>remembering wild bill davis</b></span></div></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>(1918-1995)<br /></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /></b></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><i>a kwansaba</i></b></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br />mythic bridge builder; a man span between big<br />band swing & acid organ combo; set<br />the tone, worked preset & drawbar,<br />shaped an audible vatic vision that smote<br />jimmy smith on his lonely road to<br />fame. sent him to the wood shed;<br />& out the back door to destiny!</b></span><br /><br />©Joseph McNair;2010<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LcALnHr0Zy8&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LcALnHr0Zy8&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-54189731781527547702010-06-28T15:19:00.000-07:002010-06-29T01:25:53.578-07:00remembering jimmy smith (7)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG4w1VHdAvhyphenhyphenJeNw5lHnVn422C9B_ozx1fJJ8Xe7OnDqIqeBa3tph9cY_G4SgPa2BTt4HzBKQK4zsHIi505PIVU2766UueN-KewiSI-r_N-gf7BM1cmYptl4ewcIoGJ1SyaOdsu4fRRl0/s1600/jimmy+smith.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 319px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG4w1VHdAvhyphenhyphenJeNw5lHnVn422C9B_ozx1fJJ8Xe7OnDqIqeBa3tph9cY_G4SgPa2BTt4HzBKQK4zsHIi505PIVU2766UueN-KewiSI-r_N-gf7BM1cmYptl4ewcIoGJ1SyaOdsu4fRRl0/s320/jimmy+smith.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487962244666319234" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: large; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">remembering jimmy smith</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">(1925-2005)</span><br /><br /></b></span><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>i heard … a cat playing forty choruses of georgia brown in pure </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>'nashua' tempo & never repeating. i heard futuristic, </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>stratospheric sounds that were never before </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>explored on the organ."</b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>--babs gonzales</b></span></i></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br />u pulled out that stop, that third harmonic, & the bulb<br />lit up… thunder & lightning, u said, & stars fell out<br />of the sky! silver & blakey brought the bop, the hard<br />edged urban bop, but u, jimmy, brought the funk to jazz<br />long before the mothership touched down -- when george clinton<br />was still working his way thru’ doowop -- the chitlinstank<br />in the neighborhood funk, the sweetsweat-not-acid shirt<br />soaking funk, the left-hand walkin’, foot pedal stompin’<br />got my mean mojo workin’ funk partnered with a sizzling<br />virtuoso horn solo playing right hand. made that hammond<br />b3 hum, shriek; made it blues shout, holler & scream, or<br />purr & coo or softly cry -- an ascended master<br />ere the cognoscenti knew the jazz organ had one.<br /><br />©Joseph McNair; 2010</b></span><br /></div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bpP_eWMRF9Q&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bpP_eWMRF9Q&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-68940229105150457482010-06-28T01:08:00.000-07:002010-06-29T01:29:03.461-07:00a mule of a different sort (6)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZc3G_O5mIVe6mmLWtrRJeppKPZeJWwcphJr1BUQxTgYpeyMSOn86hYCufMRFVeH8hAqWstZKtZZFfQmbn_sWup5lJ0K7f6yhka7qPRJRFiDG8slbaxvNOpHWY6DAlub1XHF_ETJbHjnA/s1600/Gov.JanBrewer(R-Arizona).jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZc3G_O5mIVe6mmLWtrRJeppKPZeJWwcphJr1BUQxTgYpeyMSOn86hYCufMRFVeH8hAqWstZKtZZFfQmbn_sWup5lJ0K7f6yhka7qPRJRFiDG8slbaxvNOpHWY6DAlub1XHF_ETJbHjnA/s320/Gov.JanBrewer(R-Arizona).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487737103966005714" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>a different sort of mule</b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /><br /></b></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>f</b></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>or hundreds of years whites have projected </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>the belief that …[non whites]…are inferior, a </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>concept that is in- consistent with reality. </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>what is the result? A mass psychosis has set </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>in among many white people.</b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>ja a. jahannes</b></span></i></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /><br />when inconsistency is prolonged<br />between belief system & reality,<br />psychosis ensues…<br /><br />gov. jan brewer’s egotonicity, her<br />cognitive unraveling, the crudity of<br />her categorization & labeling –<br /><br />“we all know that the majority of the<br />people … coming to arizona &<br />trespassing are now …drug mules” –<br /><br />of (in her mind) related & perceived<br />possible threats bears witness to this.<br />she has become like "il duce" a lens,<br /><br />a nonadjustable fixed focus of sharp<br />images of white supremacy, creative<br />fictions to which her like-minded </b></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>constituencies cling; like the skeletal </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>steel-fingered grip of a corpse that</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>squeezes an object treasured in life;</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br />that act like hallucinogens which alter<br />perception, thought & mood & are<br />dealt (her mouth to their ears) from<br /><br />the very seat of state government. is<br />she not herself a courier, mind & soul</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>packing/stuffing the psychotics she<br /><br />has swallowed & smuggled across the<br />rational borders of morality. is she not,<br />herself, a mule of a different sort ?</b></span><br /></div><br />©Joseph McNair;2010<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i-_iB5Mm19Y&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i-_iB5Mm19Y&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-71104577447710374542010-06-19T05:02:00.000-07:002010-06-28T01:24:03.439-07:00sketches of cité soleil (5)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZewJc_wfMC-5mGnpgO32RkoXuUBhVqryA5E-x0ko1ZoP9zLTlWfb7SsP4OXwx9JkmqMzkHGlLBGTQi0QcVC5i01TsjicFTQo797-dcP9mxwHvs45T3x2ZGqVjjP5NIoDRjniG1axZ8Gk/s1600/sketches+of+cite+soleil.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZewJc_wfMC-5mGnpgO32RkoXuUBhVqryA5E-x0ko1ZoP9zLTlWfb7SsP4OXwx9JkmqMzkHGlLBGTQi0QcVC5i01TsjicFTQo797-dcP9mxwHvs45T3x2ZGqVjjP5NIoDRjniG1axZ8Gk/s320/sketches+of+cite+soleil.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484455044839516578" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b>sketches of cité soleil</b></span></div></b></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /></b></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>for whose entertainment shall we sing our agony?</b></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>in what hopes? that the destroyers, aspiring to </b></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>extinguish us will suffer conciliatory remorse </b></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>at the sight of their own fantastic success?"</b></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>-- ezili dantò</b></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br />i.<br /><br />a light aircraft<br />just under 12,000 lbs.<br />bezwen soulajman<br />(needed supplies)<br /><br />overflies runway;<br />crashes in cité soleil.<br />manna from heaven?<br /><br />the carrion folk<br />come, groaning for burial --<br />strip the carcass clean.<br /><br />gone before the blood<br />pooled on the pilot seat clots,<br />long before it dries.<br /><br />ii.<br /><br />chimères: ghost<br />gangs who haunt breeze-block walls that<br />grin like rotted teeth,<br /><br />buildings scarred, pitted<br />from eruptive bullets, who<br />traffic in terror!<br /><br />bereft of purpose,<br />& populist vision, they<br />steal, rape & kidnap;<br /><br />extort & kill without<br />guilt or remorse. trade their souls<br />for weapons.<br /><br />iii.<br /><br />vigilante groups –<br />neighborhood protection – meet<br />terror with terror;<br /><br />steal, rape, kidnap, kill –<br />in retributive orgies<br />of feral justice.<br /><br />no police dare come,<br />no blue helmets seen in no-<br />go cité soleil.<br /><br />no international<br />peace keepers come without<br />armored vehicles.<br /><br />iv.<br /><br />no female is safe.<br />the penis is a weapon;<br />a tool of control.<br /><br />one in two girls &<br />young women soul soiled by<br />sexual abuse.<br /><br />children’s songs spread tales<br />of what the boys have done – the<br />girls cannot go home!<br /><br />the women cry out<br />we are shamed & dishonored<br />to ears trauma stopped!<br /><br />v.<br />even h.i.v. –<br />dread diare masisi<br />who lurks, zombi walks –<br /><br />fails to scare, deter.<br />is warded by strong potions<br />of vaginal rinse,<br /><br />water quaffed that washed a<br />lover’s most private parts clean,<br />or sex in the sea,<br /><br />or houngans sleeping<br />with girls possessed with spirits<br />infected with a.i.d.s.<br /><br />vi.<br /><br />pòv cité soleil’s<br />haze of dust & cooking smoke<br />hides her real abuse:<br /><br />1st world sabotage,<br />aid agency failure &<br />government neglect.<br /><br />a people betrayed:<br />one hundred twenty-two years<br />of indemnity<br /><br />extorted by france;<br />20 billion dollars paid,<br />the cost of revolt.<br /><br />vii.</b></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br />billions of dollars<br />of aid appear, disappear;<br />swilled by corruption.<br /><br />i.m.f. loans &<br />structural adjustment speed<br />resource extraction.<br /><br />cheap u.s. produce<br />flood all haitian markets<br />farmers stop farming,<br /><br />& in the highlands<br />desperate people strip bare<br />the once lush forests.<br /><br />viii.</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br />impotent leaders<br />sadly caricature what<br />government should be.<br /><br />grounded by the shades<br />of rulers, overthrown &<br />assassinated,<br /><br />residually<br />haunting the government seat,<br />they are bent, twisted,<br /><br />voracious & cruel<br />or at best indifferent.<br />èske gen espwa?<br />(is there hope?)<br /><br />ix.<br /><br />is there any hope<br />for those held hostage by life<br />in cité soleil?<br /><br />in cité soleil<br />where folk decrease to half-lives;<br />in set rate decay.<br /><br />a malignancy<br />poverty, not vodou, makes;<br />metastasizes.<br /><br />where there’s life, there’s hope.<br />where there is hope, redemption.<br />beni ayiti!</b></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>©Joseph McNair;2010<br /></b></span><br /></div></div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/igHTXdGiFxs&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/igHTXdGiFxs&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-36815256979492194772010-06-16T13:12:00.000-07:002010-06-17T12:36:20.047-07:00fix the shading on the children's faces (4)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tHa7CrKL2uk7KrmALQ2IFm5wZi6ao5IHfy0lyTQy6JzWOIQgNgNH4s2ajrGKZ_9UDQfksBaZefZCXfvfH4-OkqN2LA7wdLgnwIlrlBnKejOS3Ly0r_zW_duenDTDI9jfPbMpGp_UBTQ/s1600/984719346.jpg.jpeg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tHa7CrKL2uk7KrmALQ2IFm5wZi6ao5IHfy0lyTQy6JzWOIQgNgNH4s2ajrGKZ_9UDQfksBaZefZCXfvfH4-OkqN2LA7wdLgnwIlrlBnKejOS3Ly0r_zW_duenDTDI9jfPbMpGp_UBTQ/s320/984719346.jpg.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483472820780633698" border="0" /></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tHa7CrKL2uk7KrmALQ2IFm5wZi6ao5IHfy0lyTQy6JzWOIQgNgNH4s2ajrGKZ_9UDQfksBaZefZCXfvfH4-OkqN2LA7wdLgnwIlrlBnKejOS3Ly0r_zW_duenDTDI9jfPbMpGp_UBTQ/s1600/984719346.jpg.jpeg"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">f</span></span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">ix the shading on the children's faces!</span></span></span><br /></b></span><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /></b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /></b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>"to depict the biggest picture on </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>the building as a black person, i would </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>have to ask the question: why?"</b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>steve blair</b></span></i></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br />what guides the hand of a<br />muralista? some glittering<br />idea that compels from a<br />world apart? some form<br />embedded in media matter,<br />awaiting a cunning artisan<br />touch to coax it out in all of<br />its material splendor? or<br />maybe some possessing<br />spirit of the age to take the<br />head, insinuate itself into<br />the lime mortar or plaster,<br />the tempera or encaustic<br />colors ground in a molten<br />beeswax or resin binder to<br />buon-or-mezzo-fresco<br />social realist art into the<br />public sphere -- to achieve<br />a political goal, to socially<br />emancipate, to advertize.<br />the mural mice, hardly a cell </b></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>of trotskyites, hired to paint </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>two intersection-facing walls </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>of the miller valley elementary </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>school in prescott, arizona,</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>learned first hand the backlash </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>of white privilege. they daringly </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>deigned to represent a multiethnic </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>vision --children using "green" </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>modes of transportation. </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>dominating pattern & symmetry,</b></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>points of interest & texture,<br />line & depth of field was the<br />striking image of a young<br />brown boy with a thick strong<br />jaw & defiant eyes, on one<br />knee, poised to get up &…act!<br />a metaphor for the artist in<br />a decadent capitalist society?<br />shaped by conflict between </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>himself & the social forces</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>arrayed against him? hardly.<br />like david alfaro siqueiros’<br /><i>tropical america</i>, brimming<br />with radical political militancy<br />or diego rivera’s provocative<br />post impressionist mural for</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>the hotel de prado in mexico </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>cit<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia,serif;">y including the words</span></b></span></div><div><b>"god does not exist" <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms',serif;">or jose </span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms',serif;">orozco’s symbolist murals </span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms',serif;">promoting the political causes </span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms',serif;">of peasants & workers?</span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>not at all -- but powerful enough<br />to provoke a thermidorean<br />reaction from the prescott<br />demographic. from moving cars<br />came the shibboleths:<br /><br />"you're desecrating our school,"<br />“get the nigger off the wall!”<br />“get the spic off the wall!”<br /><br />hurled by the philistine, the<br />conservative & the frightened;<br />prompting the school principal<br />to tell the mural mice to lighten </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>up --the images on the wall, </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>that is; make those dark folk </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>lighter before they draw out</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>the destructive quality of </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>reconstructed whiteness, its</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>sinister structural causes &<br />consequences, before they<br />reveal the possessive<br />investment in being white &<br />the reinvention of white<br />identity as nonracist, </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>nonoppressive & victimized --</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>informed by the delusions &<br />projections of so-called decent<br />folk preserving their heritage.</b></span><br /></div></div></div><br />©Joseph McNair; 2010<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/57XwzZZOWOw&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/57XwzZZOWOw&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-57025188433812347602010-06-15T14:56:00.000-07:002010-06-15T22:59:46.684-07:00we cannot chuse but hear (3)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGTOaGSpo7KYrtz-jF4yYKxb4AsO_m09F5_uCgIGgR01OKSsvtHkAI0-VOCW7Dz0xmjJZOZG75SDJGbp__WFFaymCJGIVkHC7Yvwy7RLdh3NT0M-9KvizcegQZZ79ZeSfOLFdZfdqYWr0/s1600/we+cannot+chuse.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 302px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGTOaGSpo7KYrtz-jF4yYKxb4AsO_m09F5_uCgIGgR01OKSsvtHkAI0-VOCW7Dz0xmjJZOZG75SDJGbp__WFFaymCJGIVkHC7Yvwy7RLdh3NT0M-9KvizcegQZZ79ZeSfOLFdZfdqYWr0/s320/we+cannot+chuse.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483125812975485826" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">we cannot but chuse to hear</span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">at length did cross an albatross: </span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">thorough the fog it came…</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">samuel taylor coleridge</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br />formed when sand,<br />silt & grains of clay,<br />scraped & torn away<br />by tenacious, taloned<br />fingers of wind, rain,<br />& glacial ice, from<br />sundry land terrain --<br />proud mountains &<br />defiant flatlands –<br />whose scarring<br />declaims like totemic<br />tattoos the lingering<br />injuries & damage;<br />join the downslope<br />creep of soil to be<br />carried by rivers,<br />streams & gravity,<br />deposited in layers of<br />sediment on the ocean<br />floor, in riverbeds &<br />swamps, mixing long<br />dead organic miasma,<br />the fossil remains of<br />plants & planckton<br />mixed with mud &<br />sand, squeezed into<br />source rock & heated<br />to the night temperatures<br />of the earthen crust,<br />bearing the downward<br />press of a hundred<br />thousand years, the<br />transforming weight<br />that releases kerogens --<br />the black waxy crude,<br />or natural gas -- into<br />porous or fractured<br />rock, into subsurface<br />pools – one of gaia’s<br />many seepages &<br />secretions – brought<br />forth from wounds<br />piercing her dermis in<br />spurts of black, thick<br />& tar-like fossil<br />fuel or small, light<br />effervescent carbon<br />chains timed to the<br />beat of her heavy<br />heart. like a blood<br />donor, she has given<br />much & often, has<br />transfused mankind’ s<br />movement & industry<br />but now bleeds<br />uncontrollably from<br />too many punctures,<br />bathing wetlands &<br />barrier islands in a<br />tide of oozing crude,<br />smothering an entire<br />generation of shrimp<br />& crab, smothering<br />dolphins, whales &<br />turtles, poisoning fish<br />turning diving birds –<br />gannets, pelicans<br />frigates. & sanderlings –<br />into flightless, oil-soaked,<br />drowning birds. can we<br />not read the portents,<br />the omens? have we<br />lost the gift of auspicy?<br />the higher the bird flight<br />the more favorable the<br />omen but flightless<br />birds portend certain<br />doom. can we not see<br />as one with a glittering<br />eye? see for endless<br />days & nights the curse<br />in the eyes of the eleven<br />deep water horizon dead.<br />must we wander in our<br />guilt this earth to tell<br />any & all who might<br />listen that god glories<br />life over greed, loves<br />all things s/he has made?<br />or will we remain the<br />unwitting prizes of<br />yellow-haired, red-lipped<br />life-in-death</span><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><br />©Joseph McNair;2010<br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-loPUaExogA&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-loPUaExogA&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-69053495531846346752010-06-06T11:59:00.000-07:002010-06-19T13:16:53.049-07:00si m mouri, ou pral mouri!” (2)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynnhW6eSuxZrtACizCcTd1XLxSvYueneH6LdMWGXe9TuakFO4lEgLybJsNJiKw0_q0jjSdaeeJYGl_3BMWoZyu7VbqqXnGJF4WL7vZNqUcZz2vn9gk0Ic0Uzj0Df46zMx-UXsvtNOnIY/s1600/charbon.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 188px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynnhW6eSuxZrtACizCcTd1XLxSvYueneH6LdMWGXe9TuakFO4lEgLybJsNJiKw0_q0jjSdaeeJYGl_3BMWoZyu7VbqqXnGJF4WL7vZNqUcZz2vn9gk0Ic0Uzj0Df46zMx-UXsvtNOnIY/s320/charbon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479745786270314466" border="0" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><div>si m mouri, ou pral mouri!”</div><span style="font-size:100%;">(if i die, you die!)</span></span></b></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br />once an island lush with trees, ayiti is<br />bereft, her mountainous breasts bare,<br />their covering ripped by hunger’s rapine<br />hand. the cold aromatic sea breeze with its<br />tangy, fishy smell meets an acrid warmer air<br />from a land smoking, redolently reeking of<br />wood burning on lle de la gonave, stacked<br />in whitened piles eternally curing, then<br />bagged & distributed in les arcahaie.<br /><br /><i>the people cry out: “nou vle manje; nou pa </i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><i>vle</i></b></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><i>mouri!” (we want to eat; we do not want to<br />die!) but the land screams “ou ap tiye m!”<br />(you are killing me!)</i><br /><br />ninety eight per cent of her forests gone,<br />fifty-odd thousand grieving trees felled each<br />day like brittle warweary soldiers under truce<br />to clear the way for summer floods to wash her<br />rich, nutrient topsoil into the sea. riding bare<br />back on the scent of charcoal are the foul<br />cadaverine & putrescine bouquets that beckon<br />skulking desertification, the scavenger who<br />will surely come to clean the island’s bones!<br /><br /><i>but the people insist: “nou vle manje; nou pa </i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><i>vle</i></b></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><i>mouri!” (we want to eat; we do not want to<br />die!) & the land screams “se mwen menm<br />mouri!” (i am dying!)</i><br /><br />are there no environmental regulations? no<br />subsidiaries for alternative fuels? where is<br />government? behold bureaucrats, the mango<br />tree is too precious to cut down. plant mango<br />plantations. tell yr people to plant corn, sorghum<br />& beans between a few mango trees on their<br />small farms. harvest the towering mounds of<br />garbage, recycle the paper. use <i>that</i> as cooking<br />fuel! there are no shortages of solutions!<br /><br />terrace farm the mountains! cultivate plants<br />that will thrive on mountainsides, whose<br />roots will hold in place, stabilize & regenerate<br />the soil. behold businessmen, there are haitians<br />who know how to do this, who are doing this<br />already! where is the money? & where are the<br />teachers, the each-one-teach-ones who persuade<br />the people that killing the land brings on their<br />own unconscionable & inevitable demise<br /><br /><i>the people rejoin: “nou vle manje; nou pa </i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><i>vle</i></b></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><i>mouri!” (we want to eat; we do not want to die!)<br />& the land responds with resignation ”si m mouri,<br />ou pral mouri!” (if I die, you die!)</i></b></span><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms',serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms',serif;"><b><i>© Joseph McNair;2010</i></b></span></div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/z4MTk6GTYDw&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/z4MTk6GTYDw&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-4292647533407737452010-06-04T13:58:00.001-07:002010-06-10T17:29:56.398-07:00hb2281 (1)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcF_978weNsX3reFNnZ1c59ALj_17mjBuz_hdEKLgS8nlbMTDMxsUkb3BhmlpQN6XwYlswC6NzEZa9suL6Y1oYu7UfxM6HZ-TZ1KNm4XeqVzstoNRB5Ra09hAd7a_vZ5-YrqHbTFSQhvg/s1600/hb2281.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcF_978weNsX3reFNnZ1c59ALj_17mjBuz_hdEKLgS8nlbMTDMxsUkb3BhmlpQN6XwYlswC6NzEZa9suL6Y1oYu7UfxM6HZ-TZ1KNm4XeqVzstoNRB5Ra09hAd7a_vZ5-YrqHbTFSQhvg/s320/hb2281.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479031884264762546" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>hb2281</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>"tell me & i will forget, </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>teach me & i might remember; </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b> involve me </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>& i will learn."</b></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b> </b></span></span></i></div><div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b> ancient chinese proverb</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br />languages [like the arizona<br />wapiti or the arizona jaguar]<br />become extinct when no longer<br />able to negotiate hostile or<br />changing conditions or prevail<br />against irresistible competition.<br />the moment of extinction? the<br />death or muting of the last<br />language speaker. the last<br />ubykh speaker died in turkey<br />in ‘92 at the unethereal &<br />certainly uneternal age of 88.<br />cultures [like the greater prairie<br />chicken or the passenger pigeon]<br />become extinct when cultural<br />diversity is abated & languages<br />are endangered & proscribed<br />with extreme prejudice!<br />every two weeks, a culture<br />dies, taking with it irreplaceable<br />knowledge & experience into<br />a great unknown. we stand,<br />some of us, strangely mute,<br />unmoved or unmoving & at our<br />own peril, like vacuous & self-<br />absorbed deutschländers in ’23<br />unmindful of the frenetic, evil<br />goings on in the bürgerbräukeller"<br />while in arizona a general process<br />of destruction, like a tall, dense &<br />involved nephotic mass, gathers<br />momentum. a delusional rationality<br />begets an imaginary construct<br />which shapes a body politic in the<br />image of its fears, resentments &<br />whited sepulchral utopias, razing<br />relentlessly & trying to eliminate</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>the rest of us, “the enemy”; </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>attempting to reduce vibrantly </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>viable speech, customs,folkways & </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>the spirit of the same to eerie </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>artifacts of the extinct …</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>& the rage of affluent collectors.</b></span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><b>©Joseph McNair;2010</b></span></div></div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YSsqvRWEo0M&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YSsqvRWEo0M&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-56172819173218060382010-05-26T11:44:00.000-07:002010-05-29T07:16:28.063-07:00arizona goddam! (17)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif1br-bkh4PfhKXD3lhyphenhyphenIyP6uI5CCT5LlCFvAtoX8qebDR6VuwFwMBAzT_e33rOWDbH-HEyhpwOC4IMtGHE8_4z8git5ippUrF0XxitUQR5XWDGYH3vAX_78EsocBgKuD-trSMYFr8d4Y/s1600/arizona+goddam!.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475669623211015394" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 247px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif1br-bkh4PfhKXD3lhyphenhyphenIyP6uI5CCT5LlCFvAtoX8qebDR6VuwFwMBAzT_e33rOWDbH-HEyhpwOC4IMtGHE8_4z8git5ippUrF0XxitUQR5XWDGYH3vAX_78EsocBgKuD-trSMYFr8d4Y/s320/arizona+goddam!.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">arizona goddam!</span><br /></strong></span></div><strong></strong><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>alabama's gotten me so upset<br />tennessee made me lose my rest<br />& everybody knows about<br />mississippi goddam…<br />nina simone<br /><br /></strong></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>dos cabesas, yr steep mountain slopes & granite<br />outcroppings, yr vegetated canyon floors provoke<br />strong feelings of arousal, attraction, & yes,<br />even love by more than just the white-tailed &<br />mule deer or eagles, golden & bald, the ranging<br />mountain lion, the beautiful collared lizard &<br />the peregrine falcon. u, dos cabesas, are,<br />indeed,a love object for arizona natives<br />imprinted by the wilderness with its uncultivated<br />spaces,its searing heat with that eerie desert<br />dust on its winds, a narcotic that makes them<br />susceptible to quaint hallucinations (daylight<br />savings time is a bolshevik plot),conservative<br />& highly distrusting of government. (goddam!)<br />where lawmen under the influence of frontier<br />fancy could take a hapless but convenient<br />outlaw straight from the lyrics of their state<br />song, a befuddled recidivist burglar named<br />ernesto arturo miranda, compel from him a </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>rape, etc., confession, make him write it down </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>& sign papers with a printed certification that </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>he “voluntarily & of my own free will, with no<br />threats, coercion or promises of immunity…” &<br />“full knowledge of … his)…legal rights” made<br />that confession, but failed to inform him of<br />his right to have an attorney present & of his<br />right to remain silent.(goddam!)<br />where in a season that saw even ronald reagan<br />bow to the inevitable winds of change by signed<br />the king holiday into law, three house republican<br />arizonans, including an “unevolved” john mccain<br />& that doyen of true american conservativism,<br />senator barry goldwater voted unequivocally no!<br />state lawmakers like sand lemmings followed suit.<br />babbitt, not sinclair lewis’ vacuous protagonist,<br />but a governor doing the right thing, signed an<br />executive order declaring a paid king holiday.<br />but 7 months & 24 days later, soon-to-be-</strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>impeached evan mecham rescinded that order </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>in </strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>one of his first acts as governor! (goddam!)<br />rising from a searingly dry tropical airmass,<br />pulled northward by low-pressure cells moving<br />eastward across the two-head's wilderness </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>echoing off the sulphur springs & the san simon </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>valleys came a venal & corruptible voice calling </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>out to arizonans with the arrogated authority of </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>i am that i am: “i guess king did a lot for the </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>colored people, but i don’t think he deserves a </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>national holiday.” but the rocks surely cried out </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>in protest & boycotts. all manner of stones, </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>pythagorean </strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>frozen music, released their song </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>with stevie </strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>wonder singing lead --hapy birthday </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>to yuh -- </strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>public enemy struck back, the nfl </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>relocated the </strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>super bowl & arizonans, kicking & </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>screaming, </strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>capitulated in ’92 (goddam!)<br />where even the wind that competes at dusk </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>to be heard with the yips, barks & howls of </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>coyotes in telltale yellow desert coats, weeps & </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>wails in uncertain english even tho’ placed for </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>a year in english immersion classes where </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>languages other than english were banned from </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>speech. brainfried arizonans insist that the </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>speech of the alligator juniper, the bitter condalia </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>& crucifixion thorn, the catclaw & even the skunk </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>bush had better be the same as that which arose in </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>england & southeastern scotland; that they </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>obsequiously subordinate their mother tongues, </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>their identity & culture, for to speak a language </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>other than english is nothing more than a social </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>defect.(goddam!)<br />behold arizonans, the behemoth that u have made,<br />rising out of the desert, so mean, & abrupt of<br />emotion – & so unlike that mighty torch-bearing<br />mother of exiles on a distant shore who verily<br />welcomed the poor & the homeless. this shire reeve<br />golem of single eye & foul disposition casts his<br />all-seeing search light glance to expose & extirpate<br />all illegals wherever they might be found, especially<br />in the ghostly golden gate barrio, in cuatro milpas,<br />or in any of the barrios historicas that housed the<br />brown laborers who built yr streets & towns, yr </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>canals, laid tracks for trolleys & trains that brought </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>in the droves of undocumented anglos who </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>overwhelmed the indigenous population! (goddam!)<br />what have u done, arizonans? the adam of yr labors<br />has run amok & points proudly back to the womb </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>from whence it came – that monster matrix of </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>racism, red-baiting,anti-government sentiment & </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>resentment of anything progressive, whose birth </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>juices reek of hatred & calumny – back to u & yr </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>guiltfear, yr paroxysmally parochial thinking. it has </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>engorged on a steady diet of rights violations, english-</strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>only legislation, reasonable suspicion & belief, & now </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>it stalks like a grotesquery seeking to devour the<br />interdisciplinary study of racialized peoples, latinos<br />& chicanos in particular. what makes u think, brain-<br />fried arizonans, that it won’t turn on & devour u?<br /><br />©Joseph McNair;2010</strong></span></div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eeHboVWSUIA&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eeHboVWSUIA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-63117018575635688782010-05-24T10:41:00.000-07:002010-05-25T00:20:08.931-07:00most interesting of our american birds (16)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7FBGMkg4tcFLBxZQ5GvqrVeES6zTyDp78jlaMRJK1XtfTIF0UXCaJP-k2ZHSKRedKGuY2ua1vakxFmtl_bhZg_CTxvsb26DGBk7DIzp2zhKxJQNltSmkc27gjsDKja__2y4fjQbeIfBI/s1600/most+interesting+bird.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7FBGMkg4tcFLBxZQ5GvqrVeES6zTyDp78jlaMRJK1XtfTIF0UXCaJP-k2ZHSKRedKGuY2ua1vakxFmtl_bhZg_CTxvsb26DGBk7DIzp2zhKxJQNltSmkc27gjsDKja__2y4fjQbeIfBI/s320/most+interesting+bird.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474908700943332594" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">most interesting of our american birds</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right; font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-style: italic;">the gooey oil washing into the maze of marshes along the</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">gulf coast could prove impossible to remove, leaving a</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">toxic stew lethal to fish and wildlife...</span><br />government officials & independent<br />scientists<br /><br /><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">most interesting of our american birds</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">whose iconic flight & voracious appetite</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">inspired no less than audubon to inscribe</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">rhapsodically in his journals:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">listen to the sound of the splash they make</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">as they drive their open bills, like a pock-net,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">into the sea…</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">a pelican feeding its young embossed on</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">louisiana’s state seal by 1804 & on her blue</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">unfurling flag by 1912, a fitting perch for one</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">who’d tear her own flesh to feed her young.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">one of ornithology’s most astonishing events,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">in 1966, the year it became louisiana’s state</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">bird, pelecanus fuscus vanished like the hero</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">in a novel from the state’s entire coast.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">did concurrent tropical storms savage vulnerable</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">nests in its overwash? perhaps some pathogen</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">or virulent human encroachment struck? or</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">more likely the toxic pesticides from</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">agricultural plains, drained into the mighty</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">mississip, got absorbed by anchovies &</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">other favored fish -- did an inside job on</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">eggshell formation, on eggshell thickness,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">& caused the heroic pelican – the same who</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">would destroy itself to feed its young -- to</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">destroy its eggs as it sat on them within its</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">nest to incubate & protect them.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">thus did the brown pelican become like a</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">novel’s anti-hero whose one abiding trait</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">is bewildered & anxious uncertainty about the</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">futility & fundamental amorality of life.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">for despite efforts to transplant fledglings from</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">florida’s peninsula, at hundreds per year, or</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">banning ddt, the pelican will never see any</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">pattern in life & rarely its destination.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">we can see this now in the frightened eyes of</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">oil-soaked birds who hobble like drunks at dawn’s</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">break on barataria bay because they cannot fly;</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">whose brown & white feathers, are now jet black.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">whose nests & new hatchlings are coated with</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">crude, whose gunk-glazed eggs, like their habitats</span>,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">may never be cleaned or saved, whose offensive</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">images are the new expletives for corporate greed</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">& signs of our failure to live in harmony with nature, </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />symbols of our disdain for ecological balance,<br />signifiers of our suicidal self-absorption --<br />new metaphors for our insanity.<br /></span><br /><br /><br />© Joseph McNair;2010<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SSjoThR79zk&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SSjoThR79zk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-87081731258030847532010-05-15T17:09:00.000-07:002010-06-21T09:52:01.914-07:00stormy weather (15)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-cmXSB2yWnmvMIB7N7WWT_DzePs1zKRfZ6ybbc_hc04DTtUhLtl87jvpq20D-Dzo5jGnFJk5ckOzby8rOO44ImAfql11nswaA4OZ0iiM0lE4R8vQlX2P9cc39b6K5gPemPtBwhx6Cbo/s1600/Lena+final.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-cmXSB2yWnmvMIB7N7WWT_DzePs1zKRfZ6ybbc_hc04DTtUhLtl87jvpq20D-Dzo5jGnFJk5ckOzby8rOO44ImAfql11nswaA4OZ0iiM0lE4R8vQlX2P9cc39b6K5gPemPtBwhx6Cbo/s320/Lena+final.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471655469818542130" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" ><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">stormy weather</span></span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: right; font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">for lena horne<br /></div><div style="text-align: right; font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">(1917 - 2010)<br /></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >tube captured, tube enthralled -- cut off from</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >smell, touch, taste, heat-sense & gravity. only</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >my eyes & ears worked, held at electron gun</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >point by florescent vision – those long shapely</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >brown legs (with the eagles on her stockings</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >that flew in formation up under her hemline,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >still flock in jagged colored specs & fly in</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >semicircular orbits around the edges of my eyes)</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >fill my memory now like they filled that large,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >deep & heavy evacuated glass envelope so many</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >days of my youth ago when that heart shaped,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >luminous face (that no gal made could get the</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >shade), those large, bold beautiful eyes paired</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >with that elusive smile made their impressions,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >made me consider my first faustian exchange -- </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >my soul for just a few moments, maybe just one</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >night. i was, afterall, 12, star-struck & heavily</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >hormonal. if made to choose between lena as</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >sweet georgia brown, god or petunia jackson,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >georgia (miss brown to u!) would win every</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >damn time. i was no inverterate gambler then &</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >my real addictions were years ahead, but I felt</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >like a drunk heady in his very first cups. the</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >pleasure possibilities waxed infinite. the very</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >thought of her & me – a real little joe – made</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >a fantastical cabin in the sky seem quite absurdly</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >possible, even desirable. & then i heard her sing.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >another night, another movie, same television...<br />framed against an open window adorned with</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >formal treatments -- swags, jabots & pleated</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />drapes -- that could have been several of the</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >imaginable colors in the middle gradient shades</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >of gray, between absolute black & white, looking</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />out on an urban evening street scene which</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >captured a couple scurrying to get out of the</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >rain & prefaced by introductory strains from the</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />cab calloway orchestra with a cameo of the immaculate</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >cab himself animatedly conducting that special</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >group of musicians who needed little in the way</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />of conducting. she sang a sultry soprano lament</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >(an offstage wind machine ruffling the sheer full-</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >length sleeves of her perfect black & sequined</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >dress). her perfect phrasing evoked a swarm of</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >associations caught up in a vertically oriented</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >rotating column of emotion & she sang her</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >heart thru the vortex, making the raging storm</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >a distinctive collocate of the literal; a subtle way of</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >grasping one kind of thing in terms of another,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >fixing its elemental turbulence & power as the</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >central & controlling image of her lifesong:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >don’t know why there’s no sun up in the sky,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >stormy weather, since my man & i ain't together</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >seems like its raining all the time</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >i felt the stirrings of love in that moment, for</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >lena & for language, for she embodied every</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >feature of a poem in motion draped in a</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >musical score. she had a way of spreading her</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >arms when she sang that had no paraphrase,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >but just as clearly said “love me” & when</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >she left that open window walking down</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >stairs that split the orchestra into two sections</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >with the camera panning from full room to</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >a head to hip shot to climbing up her bodice</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >resolving in a full body shot framing her in</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >a spotlight on a night club floor & in my</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >poetic heart, she became for me more than<br />a beautiful, evocative</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" > ornament, but an enduring </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >metaphor for the complexities of love.</span><br /><br />© Joseph McNair; 2010<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iCxgfzzLqeM&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iCxgfzzLqeM&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-29190306818737284882010-05-14T08:31:00.000-07:002010-05-14T12:06:25.728-07:00awaiting an appropriate provocation (14)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHAHGx0TJpkmH31ZU9UrJuQpUw4xnnRVOY3TdzCKecjlsfM1PCkd_jW5_S-m2IKF6yuu8IM6FHgPEX9oi6pu5oiRsgLLg7Tw_NNPkF7_PhVkzL03cYjKH5_MpXwUXwjAoMoss272J_vU/s1600/SB1070.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 337px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHAHGx0TJpkmH31ZU9UrJuQpUw4xnnRVOY3TdzCKecjlsfM1PCkd_jW5_S-m2IKF6yuu8IM6FHgPEX9oi6pu5oiRsgLLg7Tw_NNPkF7_PhVkzL03cYjKH5_MpXwUXwjAoMoss272J_vU/s320/SB1070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471151116930716130" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-size:130%;">awaiting an appropriate provocation</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">tell me, arizonans, is a god or perhaps</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">some human demiurge supposedly</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">the author of your laws?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">surely a god, for who else might godly</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">see thru’ layers of artifice & deception,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">in honest toil, toned down actions & attire,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">minimal human intercourse, capricious</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">movement, desperate concealment, the</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">furtive, undocumented heart?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">whose nostrils can indeed detect the</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">stench of flight from custody or country;</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">the reeking infectious foreignness of</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">interlopers, who abide among us</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">fangfeeding off the fat of the land,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">diminishing us all.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">tell me, arizonans, are there among u,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">like minos, those who commune with an</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">olympian sire? inspired to make laws</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">that bestow clairvoyance on lawmen,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">enable them to clair-see “probable &</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">reasonable causes” in mexicans or</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">o.t.m.s who work the bean fields or</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">sinister sit on porches, in the back</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">of pickup trucks, in barrios & in</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">cantinas of historic ethnic enclaves or</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">those who don’t; who speak subversive</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">spanish, pantomime the tortilla & butter</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">truth about speedy gonzales, the frito</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">bandito, las posadas & la llorona or</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">any other appropriate provocation</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">for trivializing the human spirit --</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">por una noche de cristal fea,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">arizona style.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">©Joseph McNair; 2010</span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/B5YyLn5iMPQ&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/B5YyLn5iMPQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-24067717998189676732010-05-12T23:53:00.000-07:002010-05-14T02:36:46.362-07:00for wayne shorter (13)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6sOcEdg87K6OgDZRwJlGjLblLHy4wPNF649WiHNScVf5emm16plUkBYuUgHQpEYbZyInQiIzlNU3f-rQUdHx7TsEVGBkX80LziqnIXf7opPCoZaW5cpuXKGg5EqWsSqIq5-GOIfQMtHE/s1600/wayne+shorter+final.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6sOcEdg87K6OgDZRwJlGjLblLHy4wPNF649WiHNScVf5emm16plUkBYuUgHQpEYbZyInQiIzlNU3f-rQUdHx7TsEVGBkX80LziqnIXf7opPCoZaW5cpuXKGg5EqWsSqIq5-GOIfQMtHE/s320/wayne+shorter+final.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470648609364261026" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><div>for wayne shorter</div></b></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>(1933 -- )</b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /><br />perhaps the music’s greatest living<br />composer, yr organic conceptions<br />of fissioning melody, harmony,<br />& rhythm took the state of play in a<br />fresh direction. one of the few young<br />composers who could take a piece<br />to miles & get it back unchanged;<br />get the band to play it like u wrote<br />it, conforming precisely to its often<br />bopish, sometimes modal structure,<br />swiveling where it said to swivel,<br />snaking where it said to snake,<br />crossing over the tonic center from<br />the consonant right or weaving back </b></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>over the new middle from the<br />dissonant left in densely dreaded<br />unison plaits that changed the sound<br />of jazz, that changed fluidly, like yr<br />own rollins-like tenor style, with its<br />ripping, runaway trane asymmetries<br />to the coruscating color of yr rhythmic,<br />interval leaping soprano solo voice<br />chanting its own mystical name &<br />transfiguring signature, its new motifs<br />& alternate insights assigned to<br />randomness, new denouements &<br />meticulous untyings of personal meaning –<br />rushing in where boppers fear to tread!<br /><br />© Joseph McNair; 2010</b></span></div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QvH2lR27WXQ&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QvH2lR27WXQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-70235311991273777122010-05-12T21:47:00.000-07:002010-05-14T02:37:44.314-07:00for hubert laws (12)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDob6ect5EIXMyAecS0LN3sperO_adPueUDX1HJdUefimWJrC4uCg5jZsO7tFrxzhhEJkSVHjJ9LLlQYhnFN8OksgCR-c0LJ9EnszoS2alo8f8JqoVdd0dlYR2Theh9hL6z86uPImmxsg/s1600/hubert+laws+final.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDob6ect5EIXMyAecS0LN3sperO_adPueUDX1HJdUefimWJrC4uCg5jZsO7tFrxzhhEJkSVHjJ9LLlQYhnFN8OksgCR-c0LJ9EnszoS2alo8f8JqoVdd0dlYR2Theh9hL6z86uPImmxsg/s320/hubert+laws+final.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470612704594996210" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><br />for hubert laws</span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;">(1939 -- )</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-style: italic;">from the start, when it was the instrument of the wood-god pan,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> the flute has been associated with pure (some might say impure) </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">energy. its sound releases something naturally untamed..."</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> --seamus heaney </span><br /></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">the iconic miss mary’s place, </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">a hoary houston honky tonk </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">prominently placed because </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">it pinpoints a precise location </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">for yr musical roots, soul sourced </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">in an urban manifestation & </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">a perceptible revelation of the </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">jook, ribald cake & whiskey</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">cousin to the beans & bacon </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">blues with a stepped up tempo </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">that sulky soaked the late night </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">& early morning air across the </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">street from yr house, combined </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">with yr mama’s gospel piano </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">& yr daddy’s harmonica riffs, </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">the basis of yr own funky, secular</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">testimony, the crucible where</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">rhythm & blues, classical julliard, </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">& the spiritual, weighed & mixed </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">in proper amounts, given time to</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">season, fluxed down, solve et </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">coagula, & transmuted into the </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">sweetest, purest melodic &</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">multicolored jazz flute tone </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">ever proffered, ever played.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">© Joseph McNair; 2010</span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qv0yqIxCNgo&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qv0yqIxCNgo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-72331523223001152272010-05-12T01:20:00.000-07:002010-05-14T02:38:10.214-07:00for bennie carter (11)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijWBpCML6_FlR_hixHMOkRswBvfVe9LQIOISNvQEgvL_AD2kFn2DbrxMmEqBES0qqr5e6Rbincf9AK9Xf3EfvkSOkCUMvfVGS00aG-U9INXz7ONX1JmC99sg8NJ_TlQNjwdtY1OqeXyW8/s1600/Benny_Carter+final.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijWBpCML6_FlR_hixHMOkRswBvfVe9LQIOISNvQEgvL_AD2kFn2DbrxMmEqBES0qqr5e6Rbincf9AK9Xf3EfvkSOkCUMvfVGS00aG-U9INXz7ONX1JmC99sg8NJ_TlQNjwdtY1OqeXyW8/s320/Benny_Carter+final.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470300734365101266" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >for bennie carter</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >(1907 -2003)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >the only musician to have recorded in eight </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >different decades, yr life, a symphony in riffs </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >pouring out of yr trumpet, out of yr alto, out</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >yr head & captured on vinyl, on tape, on compact </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >disc living & playing thru’ yr legend making,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >writing it in the tales yr music told. yr rites of</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >passage & the sheparding process where those at a</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >higher level of understanding guided u to </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >& thru’ a greater exposure to the music. rex </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >stewart, sidney bechet, fatha hines, fats waller,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >willie the lion smith, james p. johnson & the duke</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >transferred their powers to u, caused a change in yr</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >existential condition; freed u from profane time.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >freed u to recapitulate the history of</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >the music that thru this recapitulation u </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >might sanctify the music anew, reveal its deep</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >meanings to the new generations, help them own &</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >assume the responsibility of mystical</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >vocation. u took time to befriend & mentor miles</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >when he had no friends; to mentor q when like u, he</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >wanted to write scores for film, to be there for j.j.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >johnson, art pepper & max roach as they each increased</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >in stature & in favor. & u also took time </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >to teach yr alto to sing. yr signature sound was</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >smooth as silk, flowing like a lazy river that might</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >race like a rapid or be still like a honeyed pool.</span><br /><br />© Joseph McNair; 2010<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/y5NVbKIs0G8&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/y5NVbKIs0G8&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-56165271573986855122010-05-11T23:31:00.000-07:002010-05-14T02:38:25.994-07:00for ben webster (10)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7vp9Tkpo0S5GL4Gvt09ogUWuJ4oae5PoAVAN9rpcdEAdawk9-t6xx1ZekJ_9RyelOlbLI-Ty5KIw8gP6xdnw09MQxKTFcfi48rkBHkh6PTcUcMhbocdI9OSqYaDjsqZOJZyWfu6EAVCI/s1600/ben+webster+final.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7vp9Tkpo0S5GL4Gvt09ogUWuJ4oae5PoAVAN9rpcdEAdawk9-t6xx1ZekJ_9RyelOlbLI-Ty5KIw8gP6xdnw09MQxKTFcfi48rkBHkh6PTcUcMhbocdI9OSqYaDjsqZOJZyWfu6EAVCI/s320/ben+webster+final.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470268403843957570" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" ><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">for ben webster</span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;">(1909 – 1973)</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right; font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;">and i heard charlie parker for the first time & that<br />was quite a thrill. this guy scared me to death!<br />ben webster<br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">what johnnie hodges was to the alto, u were in</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">spades to the tenor & when froggie went a’courting,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">uh hunh, yr warm, breathy, sensual tone slickly slipped</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">like a tongue up under a stray hemline to caress</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">a fleshy thigh, make it surely shake with tremulous</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">waves of hurt-so-good need or turn brutish on a stomp,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">ferally fecund, growling, rasping, rooted in the</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">blues. u were one of yr era’s three tenors, before</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">the sunrise of bebop, when the hawk & prez prowled the</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">bandstands seeking whom they might cut up. but when they tried</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">to cut u, they had to bring their lunch & dinner too.</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">u enjoyed a reign as king of the tenors, that is,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">until bird came – then nothing else was ever the same.</span><br /><br />© Joseph McNair;2010<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4PeGPSgJlLA&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4PeGPSgJlLA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-53792146873502630712010-05-11T21:05:00.001-07:002010-05-14T02:38:40.368-07:00for sidney bechet (9)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvwr-cWJbE84xmWl9T_1yucTTEYX-2d_i878UVlHgt4cqRN-IGaXhXiWRFOx1aThER4KsGsAVAW88XIS4tHD6DVwOJCpsi4UhfnreyU6IaCMuNW0rHCmsohEwoULXkX6PcO8WlRJMBFk/s1600/sidney+bechet+final.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvwr-cWJbE84xmWl9T_1yucTTEYX-2d_i878UVlHgt4cqRN-IGaXhXiWRFOx1aThER4KsGsAVAW88XIS4tHD6DVwOJCpsi4UhfnreyU6IaCMuNW0rHCmsohEwoULXkX6PcO8WlRJMBFk/s320/sidney+bechet+final.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470238512091726530" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><div>for sidney bechet</div>(1897 -1959)</span></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><i>it is the world of your own soul that </i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>you seek. only within yourself </i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>exists that other reality </i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>for which you long.</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>herman hesse</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>a double kwansaba</b></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /><br />"le dieu," a sound force given into our<br />keeping, casting off tonic light from yr<br />spirit heat. yr sugary sweet improvs like<br />a savory beignet reek crawdad & shrimp;<br />yr vibrato at once wide in affect<br />cajoles octave joy, searing sorrow, fear &<br />creole from yr sax, yr mage’s wand.<br /><br />twas a world of yr own sound<br />that u sought, that u dared to<br />draw us into, with its halls of<br />mirrors & endless doors, that magic odeum<br />within for which u did surely long;<br />that made u wolfly stalk jazz’s outer<br />steppes, its first great soprano soloist!<br /><br />©Joseph McNair;2010</b></span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/URPOUpGkllQ&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/URPOUpGkllQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-76627755184629282472010-05-08T18:13:00.000-07:002010-05-10T18:32:48.771-07:00for mccoy tyner (8)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVwedPPEPUuPaJCdTBzKxRza7xM52KOVdzfb8LaIXKQB0xJbLSiCT6BMTOjDMS6_12CokR3GFjdtzQuGSO6HaLuxhLmbMHKc8EPjcb4gOx9ORfVVBV4L-MFkirxyhGOgycRzBAvjuBcw/s1600/McCoy+Tyner+final.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVwedPPEPUuPaJCdTBzKxRza7xM52KOVdzfb8LaIXKQB0xJbLSiCT6BMTOjDMS6_12CokR3GFjdtzQuGSO6HaLuxhLmbMHKc8EPjcb4gOx9ORfVVBV4L-MFkirxyhGOgycRzBAvjuBcw/s320/McCoy+Tyner+final.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469075002573988578" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">f<span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">or mccoy tyner</span></span> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />(1938 --</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">)</span><br /><br />u were twenty-two when u joined the </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">john coltrane quartet,<br />but clearly the </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">real mccoy. trane knew this, kept u </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">five years<br />close, at the core of this </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">most seminal of jazz experiments.<br /></span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">from where did that transcendent </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">piano style come? from<br />what holy </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">place within? & where did u learn </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">that unique<br />two-handed harmonic </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">attack & rhythmic charge – yr block </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />chording low bass left hand stacking </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">fourths & yr staccato<br />right hand </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">flying thru pentatonic scales, </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">modal structures,<br />inverted triads & </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">multi-fingered runs – new voicings </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">&<br />vocabulary for virtuoso jazz piano </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">& growing each time u<br />played. u </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">shadowed trane thru’ his scales, </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">chordal structures,<br />melodic phrasings </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">& rhythms, playing mantrically, </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">intuiting<br />the sacred audible tones</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">to help elevate each consciousness-</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />raising performance, drawing garrison </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">& jones to u,<br />transcending & </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">integrating all that had been played </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">before,<br />fastened securely to his coattails, </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">to his ascension. he took<br />u to the pinnacle</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">of god consciousness, let u glimpse the </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />final & highest abode of ishwara, the </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">ultimate revelation of<br />the self in perfect </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">radiance & release. he would have taken</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">u further, into formless consciousness & </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">boundless radiance.<br />but u did not like the free; were not yet </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">ready for the street<br />of pefume sellers, &</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">like the vagrant who was overcome by </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />the heady aromas on that street, who </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">could only be revived<br />by a fecal sal </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">volatile from the street’s gutters, u said </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">all u<br />heard was noise; that u had no </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">feeling for the new music.<br />turned away, </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">turned back to yr unabsorbed present, </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">to yr<br />raw blues & passionate pentatonic</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">; turned back to comfortable<br /></span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">virtuosity, but haunted by an audible </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">image of a seed syllable<br />where all sound, </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">all music dissolves into perfect radiance </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">&<br />release & a memory of not a means to </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">an end but the means<br />& the end.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">© Joseph McNair; 2010</span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UYgdzzKK5F4&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UYgdzzKK5F4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-32493431841972778512010-05-07T00:31:00.000-07:002010-05-14T02:39:34.559-07:00for armando “chick” corea (7)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWjaFW9bm6cYO_PWreixTw0A03J3px-SEEywYNLGlZCr7G3IF70Gkkxls_6PQiSzgdGZlYK713RLS2iPpesJ5eiooGzefYZx50ixm5QUszos-xz0-U_3Loh_XMyZYFM2HJY-tZMM1arwU/s1600/chick+corea+final.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWjaFW9bm6cYO_PWreixTw0A03J3px-SEEywYNLGlZCr7G3IF70Gkkxls_6PQiSzgdGZlYK713RLS2iPpesJ5eiooGzefYZx50ixm5QUszos-xz0-U_3Loh_XMyZYFM2HJY-tZMM1arwU/s320/chick+corea+final.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468433036121670498" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><div>for armando “chick” corea</div></b></span><b>(1941 --</b></span><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', serif; font-weight: bold; "><i>a villenelle</i></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><div><br /></div>angular melodies, latin-swing rhythms, extended, structured compositions,<br />hard bop proclivities & avante garde dispositions roiled in yr musician soul,<br />transient, finite, existing in time, negating the negation, defying definitions.<br /><br />classical music was a just way to learn to play, but jazz allowed u the juxtapositions<br />u sought of tempo, virtuosity & improvisation, a way to fuse competing feels in<br />angular melodies, latin-swing rhythms, extended, structured compositions.<br /><br />cathartic best describes the change that leads to turning points. contradictions<br />spiral, effervescent progressive rock stirs up the mix, makes the music helical,<br />transient, finite, existing in time, negating the negation, defying definitions.<br /><br />u give yr passion wings. yr spanish heart pilots yr sonorous explorations<br />sometimes charted, sometimes floated; whatever the heart feels, pours into yr<br />angular melodies, latin-swing rhythms, extended, structured compositions.<br /><br />redemption at the keyboards. blurring the line between yr many dispositions,<br />& freeform outbursts, fusion & rock; a synthesis is realized, a new u steps forth<br />transient, finite, existing in time, negating the negation, defying definitions.<br /><br />yr voracious musical appetites compelled u to blithe quixotic explorations<br />of a wider musical world, while evolving a distinctive & venerable voice within<br />angular melodies, latin-swing rhythms, extended, structured compositions;<br />transient, finite, existing in time, negating the negation, defying definitions.<br /><br />© Joseph McNair</span></b></span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1upxxDFA9aQ&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1upxxDFA9aQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-84149191890454984572010-05-06T00:10:00.000-07:002010-05-06T01:02:58.960-07:00julian “cannonball” adderley (6)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoxEsqA1oCEvRLUrpTqLTtL_P9Umpi_RKJ2XW6ORGQTkHLrAx8zdOEGzU3DGVCPUL1BgffoSkPE5Q1b3XwKMKr550ynh0lbtWrQF1ZpDOce35VxwokfSHD-RgjMo5f7bETeUz9A6Nl0ag/s1600/Cannonball+Adderley+final.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoxEsqA1oCEvRLUrpTqLTtL_P9Umpi_RKJ2XW6ORGQTkHLrAx8zdOEGzU3DGVCPUL1BgffoSkPE5Q1b3XwKMKr550ynh0lbtWrQF1ZpDOce35VxwokfSHD-RgjMo5f7bETeUz9A6Nl0ag/s320/Cannonball+Adderley+final.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468051758606579666" border="0" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><div><b>for julian “cannonball” adderley</b></div></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>(1928 –1975)</b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /><br /><b>yr chromatic & continuous lines, a cutting<br />tone & voracious spirit devouring the changes,<br />like a cannibal [not cannonball] with a fertile<br />fang in the new hardbop thang got u thru the fifties,<br />established yr street creds. u couldn’t be the new bird, the<br />naturally occurring vacuum in those big shoes<br />nearly sucked the life out of bebop & would not be<br />filled. but u were u, good enough to replace rollins,<br />play on the same bandstand with trane, make miles salute yr<br />talent. but u could not be contained for long in a<br />group not yr own. so u grabbed yr brother, nat, called on<br />the great ones who knew u, had played with u, to help u<br />lay down yr ha' mercy blues-based, soul jazz legacy.<br /><br />© Joseph McNair;2010</b></span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pm_eVnWHplQ&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pm_eVnWHplQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8746185529766786528.post-52516935278904435252010-05-05T16:57:00.000-07:002010-05-05T18:33:05.209-07:00for freddie hubbard (5)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI8cI2KJFgaFBoT4NLOj-HBJvDX8RHcc_1plpLPlpxsB9_lFNnWIeTqbdL3j9ucGn7joF1MPaG2Em5Q0sc7_7IGWHms0JqpfDjHz1RhssXBZ4R6TBg0YJbk4tsPaLNM6jJEG3LVid7DqE/s1600/Freddie_Hubbard+final.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI8cI2KJFgaFBoT4NLOj-HBJvDX8RHcc_1plpLPlpxsB9_lFNnWIeTqbdL3j9ucGn7joF1MPaG2Em5Q0sc7_7IGWHms0JqpfDjHz1RhssXBZ4R6TBg0YJbk4tsPaLNM6jJEG3LVid7DqE/s320/Freddie_Hubbard+final.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467940159876896722" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><div>for freddie hubbard</div></b></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>(1938 -2008)</b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><br /><br />one foot in tonal jazz, the other in atonal,<br />a pendulum swing between interest & tension,<br />stable/passive & unstable/active, u were a<br />dialectician of sonorous euphony, the<br />most brilliant horn of a generation of cats who<br />swung from side to side, to & fro with gravity &<br />acquired momentum but would not fly off into the<br />deepest currents of free jazz. had a big beautiful<br />tone; a canny sense of rhythm & time; a fiery,<br />exuberant style that pushed u to hit notes higher<br />& faster than anyone else around or blow up<br />tense & tumescent to release the contents of yr<br />very soul in a soft melodic adumbration.<br /><br />©Joseph McNair; 2010</b></span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/13I1oBgmudQ&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/13I1oBgmudQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Joseph McNairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13632541290130918773noreply@blogger.com0