Pittsburgh's Own Regional Notables of Jazz
AFRO-AMERICAN MUSIC INSTITUTE CELEBRATES 36 YEARS
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PITTSBURGH JAZZ
From Blakey to Brown, Como to Costa, Eckstine to Eldridge, Galbraith to Garner, Harris to Hines, Horne to Hyman, Jamal to Jefferson, Kelly to Klook; Mancini to Marmarosa, May to Mitchell, Negri to Nestico, Parlan to Ponder, Reed to Ruther, Strayhorn to Sullivan, Turk to Turrentine, Wade to Williams… the forthcoming publication Treasury of Pittsburgh Jazz Connections by Dr. Nelson Harrison and Dr. Ralph Proctor, Jr. will document the legacy of one of the world’s greatest jazz capitals.
Do you want to know who Dizzy Gillespie idolized? Did you ever wonder who inspired Kenny Clarke and Art Blakey? Who was the pianist that mentored Monk, Bud Powell, Tad Dameron, Elmo Hope, Sarah Vaughan and Mel Torme? Who was Art Tatum’s idol and Nat Cole’s mentor? What musical quartet pioneered the concept adopted later by the Modern Jazz Quartet? Were you ever curious to know who taught saxophone to Stanley Turrentine or who taught piano to Ahmad Jamal? What community music school trained Robert McFerrin, Sr. for his history-making debut with the Metropolitan Opera? What virtually unknown pianist was a significant influence on young John Coltrane, Shirley Scott, McCoy Tyner, Bobby Timmons and Ray Bryant when he moved to Philadelphia from Pittsburgh in the 1940s? Would you be surprised to know that Erroll Garner attended classes at the Julliard School of Music in New York and was at the top of his class in writing and arranging proficiency?
Some answers can be gleaned from the postings on the Pittsburgh Jazz Network.
For almost 100 years the Pittsburgh region has been a metacenter of jazz originality that is second to no other in the history of jazz. One of the best kept secrets in jazz folklore, the Pittsburgh Jazz Legacy has heretofore remained mythical. We have dubbed it “the greatest story never told” since it has not been represented in writing before now in such a way as to be accessible to anyone seeking to know more about it. When it was happening, little did we know how priceless the memories would become when the times were gone.
Today jazz is still king in Pittsburgh, with events, performances and activities happening all the time. The Pittsburgh Jazz Network is dedicated to celebrating and showcasing the places, artists and fans that carry on the legacy of Pittsburgh's jazz heritage.
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Duke Ellington is first African-American and the first musician to solo on U.S. circulating coin
MARY LOU WILLIAMS
INTERVIEW
My thoughts -
After a few years I began to be able to communicate my thoughts in writing, with more skill then I ever had. It improved my creative thinking and my visual creation. A Plus Plus in my book. My thoughts on Equal rights, on Education on Pride and above all else FREEDOM began to come into focus.
I have been asking Doc Harrison to be my muse and help me with my direction, he felt that I should bring my writings to you "The Giant Killers" for what reason I'm unsure. So from time to time I will post my thoughts here. Each post is a copy of a letter I have sent to different people around the Country. I don't put my full name in the letters and ask for nothing in return. My only wish is to give another prospective and some "food for thought."
I hope you enjoy my thoughts and take something away with you, I ask if you need to comment please do so in my main comment page. I will be able to better address you there- rather then trying to figure out were my posts end and your begin.
Peace
CWR
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Comment by CWR (Fan of Culture) on January 26, 2010 at 1:28am
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******
Old Guard to my pride, are your days growing late?
Silver has replaced that blackened muzzle; this is life’s humorous fate.
A bag O' bones, a shell of the hull. …
I am sure I can remember back O’ so many waning moons ago. I recall the attitude of your warning, alerted fur on hunched shoulder row.
Your color so brilliant, as like the Osage split up the center, Youthfully dense your mane, and menacing as nature intended.
Time has been kind to the spirit, yet raids you of E’jira’s giving, The Simplest of creeds, for love and loyalty; kill or die trying.
Begotten son of Bronson, the Lacquered Black bastard, from Pandora the apricot Molosser. You, the ideal weapon, hailed as Thor~ God of thunder.
With pride of a Spartan, you secured our nights.
Immediate emotion commands, instinctively you fight.
With passions inflamed, defense was your intention.
From indifferent to deadly, these your duty’s limitations
Sad eyes, you would watch over my most valued possessions. You slept on the razors edge, dreaming of nothing less then our protections.
O’ bag a bones, sentinel grown weary.
Once, your commanding presents kept them humbled.
All, in your broad shadow they had trembled.
Your teethed smile sent them cowaring
Apha in my absence never daulting.
Friend to mine entails our enemies are as one.
Ever lasting loyalty until your life done.
True to the end, I have not need to discuss.
In your care, mine, I could only but trust.
The Conquering worm is trailing, I see he has worn thin your skin and put a sway to your back. Nothing be capable of evading the maggot, he always gets his snack.
We have mourned your lost from the start, You the outsized runt who placed joy into our heart.
When your time has ended, those many befriended will share their tales of your grace.
In the ground forever, immortalized, this will be your final rotting place.”
You shall be missed ~yet honored in stories so precious. Live in our accounts of a lost friend among us.
O’ bag of stones, my poor aging friend.
I will be here, to see you~ to see you to the end.
******
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If you take a knuckle and rap a tune on a tree of girth, the sound that returns gives you the elder's worth.
A honest lumber will sound a proud "thunk”, rap against the body of rotten tree , you faintly hear the reverb of a punk.
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Drama!
Lies cut from the play when natural passion consumes the stage. Truth sits on razors sharp in the moments of rage. ...
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“Speaking of encoded tongue in cheek.”
The wind’s tails suck a trail. It comes through my winter garden. Twisting the squirrel’s nuts, disruptive, not even bagging pardon
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To Will;
"Nothing less than I expected;" I can see where that sounds jaded and coarse. Proud has not lost its way to me, for I know my pride's source.
My expression mimics my thoughts, unjolted by your newest height. I may seem like a hard sell, but I knew you where extraordinary before your first breath.
Nothing you have done sends my thoughts to over-amazement, after all, I should know the confines of my first begotten son. Considering this, I have watched you grow to this gentleman you are, from day-none.
Your incredible world is unveiling; its rouge carpet at your lumbering feet. What grand adventures you are surely about to meet.
I am beyond confident in your abilities, yet in your limits as a young man. On your two feet, I am certain you will firmly stand.
Even though my face does not display my father's joy, you're nothing less than I expected, a man coming from once a boy.
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Where to begin. ...at the begining;
When time for tact and compassion is “over –looked”, repeatedly, by those left in care of our greatest treasures. That coarseness should be a loud alarm to good sense, something worth perusing, and reversing for the betterment of our future.
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A! Icicle hanging there from the gentlest of wind chimes.
There, where the frozen night pushes against the blue day bright, trapped between pitch cold and the setting warm light.
Indifferent to the battle raging over your very life, patience is your virtue, no need to struggle or strife.
Like the root of the Willow ever searching out, your very reason is to find the quickest downward route.
Your essence briefly impeded, frozen in this occasion. The first family divine temporarily trapped, for my observation.
O! This Ice sculpture growing from my roof. Constantly en route to those calmer levels, this magnificent wonder locked to its own crystal-clear vessel.
You carry on this perpetual motion with no end. Guided by bedlam’s vision, fluid to inanimate, and then back once again.
Misery’s bittersweet force thrown against the Suns loving cast, an epic conflict only delaying your likely liquid path.
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Beyond the commons. (-ion):
Random actions forever set in motion, their engines fueled by utter confusion.
They move, never ceasing, none with a conclusion.
Forward is the familiar verb to their description, even if that being true, it is not my definition.
I could not have dreamt today’s wonders, and tomorrow fits nicely into that equation.
This is the nutrition for my imagination, like a feast of flesh and grains it fills me with satisfaction.
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The brain or more so the human brain is capable of weighing incredible issues for survival . It is for all intents and purpose peculiarly plastic. It’s committed to receiving impressions from social interactions, it alternates between exploring the unknown and remembering the known.
The brain must learn and grow and be able to profit from its lessons. In humans, much of this growth comes after birth., where instinct is reduced to a bear minimum. The childhood is lengthy because the developing brain must receive and store ever perplexing information. Both social and maternal care is needed to nurture positive growth.
So get off your ass and be a parent!
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Casually as it went, it comes once again.
A new day, brilliantly played.
Breathless wonder, until the next appears where the old has been.
© 2024 Created by Dr. Nelson Harrison.
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