Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Storm At Birth




Listening to some Ed Thigpen.  Had never heard of the man.  A drummer born in Chicago Illinois in 1930, known for his elegant brushwork, Ed Thigpen was the drummer for the lighting fast pianist Oscar Peterson from 1959 to 1965. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ed_Thigpen   The following year he assembled a cast of all stars, Ron Carter on bass, Kenny Burrell on Guitar, Herbie Hancock on keys and Clark Terry on trumpet and recorded a remarkable disc, which from what I can tell, was his only release as a leader that decade entitled, “Out of the Storm.”  The record swings, takes risks, fills out some lovely melodic heads, and, I was to discover, is appropriately titled, for it was recorded the day before, the day of and the day after the day that I was born. 

This coincidence would be enough to make me listen twice and find kind things to say, but, as always, there’s more.  This session was, like so many countless classic jazz recording dates, captured at Rudy Van Gelder’s study in Englewood New Jersey.  And this was the same town that I was actually born in.  I don’t know how far the studio was from the hospital but clearly these cats were serenading my mom and I from across town as we struggled, Out-of-the-Storm, to become two.   A belated thanks to this distinguished quintet for the welcome march.



Mr. Thigpen died three years back in Copenhagen, that grand European hub of jazz, I’d written about a few days ago.  Shame that.  I wish I’d had a chance to meet the gentleman.  This was his one big recording date as a leader.  I bet he had some memories at hand.  Asking someone to remember a night played among thousands of shows, would be tough.  But I’m betting those three days, were significant for Ed as this was his big debut.  All the other luminaries from the date are still alive, I’m happy to say.  Perhaps I’ll engage one of them and find out if the earth shook or the rain fell, or not much of anything of note transpired on that session.   Perhaps I’ll 锦还乡[1]

It’s a self-centered exercise, but I often think of that year, 1966, as a transitional point between a comparatively naïve, innocent post-war America that was, and the cognizant, jaded counter-culture America that would settle in, during the years to come.  The assassination of MLK and RFK, the riots, the Tet Offensive, all push America into a different place that made what came before irretrievable.

Working year-by-year decisive turning points are difficult to fasten.  Looking back in history, decades or centuries are perhaps a more apt marker than “The Beatles 65” to “Revolver.”  Look for example at the early sixteenth century in Western Europe.  At the beginning of the century, Rome’s hold on spiritual power across Western Europe, which had been buffeted during the previous century, was completely shattered within the subsequent fifty years.  My mind is back there, in Europe and by necessity China at that time, because of a new book I began today.   

I finally put to rest a rather prim and proper, uproarious P. G. Wodehouse novel, “The Mating Season” I’d been reading it in fits and starts for the last few weeks. Finishing freed me to pluck something new off the shelf and I grabbed English satire of a different sort, Thomas More’s “Utopia” that a friend had recommended a few month’s back.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Utopia_(book)

Go back in English history four hundred years and some things remain:  The sense of form, order and biting sarcasm are all there.  But the notion that imperial centrality, the confidence of empire even waning empire or empire lost, is definitely not there.  English minds like those of many Europeans were afire with stories from the new world.  It strikes one that there was simply no way to imagine England as the civilized world at that time.  England was on Europe’s periphery, on the civilized world’s periphery, on the planet’s periphery.                                                       

                                             


Biggest, most populace, most advanced, etc., was all located, elsewhere.   China meanwhile, at this period certainly believed it was the apex of civilization. 

Tomorrow we’ll have a look at Thomas Moore’s “Utopia” and the England at that time, and compare it in general to the China of the early sixteenth century.  I’d like to try to understand both positions, in terms of envy.  

We’ll pick it up then, en route through the storm. 




[1] yìjǐnhuánxiāng:  to come back to one's hometown in silken robes (idiom); to return in glory        

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