alocispepraluger102

Interesting site. How did we ever get along without the internet do check out the 'gil's place'. been diggin these cats for 50 years.

http://memory.loc.gov/cocoon/ihas/html/mulligan/gm-chet.html http://memory.loc.gov/cocoon/ihas/html/mul...gm-counter.html

he did some great work on at least one of the sonny sharrock late recordings. http://www.allaboutjazz.com/php/article.php?id=17594

anyone heard the bob florence solo piano album? from a mind that quick and musical, it should be a hoot.

the birdland story-----an old roulette 2fer, part of the birdland series.

Concert in the Park: Free Jazz with Joe McPhee Jesse Ashlock On a mellow April afternoon, a most unusual performance was scheduled to take place in Manhattan's last remaining natural forest, in Inwood Hill Park at the northern tip of the island. The veteran avant-garde jazz composer and improviser Joe McPhee, in town for a concert at the Brecht Forum, planned to wander among the park's old growth oaks and tulip trees, playing the saxophone unamplified, Pied Piper-like, his audiene trailing behind. Directions to the meeting place, near the park's natural rock caves, left something to be desired, so a cluster of concertgoers found themselves at the edge of the Harlem River, staring at the Henry Hudson Bridge in confusion. No McPhee, only a Little League game in full swing. "Maybe the 'C' stands for caves," said a man with a French accent and a long goatee, pointing at the Columbia University logo painted on the cliff across the river. A friendly park ranger at the nature center provided directions and a map, encouraging everyone to hike to the top of the hill for a view of the New Jersey Palisades after the show. The group meandered towards the woods under a benevolent spring sun, the sounds of shouts and batted balls echoing through the park. "I've lived in New York for eight years and I've never been up here," said one attendee, who'd taken the subway up from Williamsburg. "So what better to do on a day like this?" Just beyond the tree line, a crowd of about 70 was gathered in a circle beside the path. The audience included both graybeards and strollers, with several whole ragged families in attendance. McPhee, a heavyset middle-aged black man with a graying mustache and mirrored sunglasses, stood at the far edge, greeting arriving guests and occasionally checking his watch. At the last minute he scuttled his plan to roam, instead climbing the hillside to stand atop a massive boulder, where he raised a slim gold soprano sax and began to play. A plane thundered overhead as he sounded his first tentative, gentle, carefully enunciated notes. Passersby walking dogs and bicycles slowed to see what was happening. Rocking a bit, McPhee began an intricate series of little runs, fingers flying over the keys. His high notes were often manic, twittering, breathy moans that sounded like the birds in the trees, while his lower register was all molasses and caramel, drifting lazily through the warm, leaf-scented air. Some listeners nodded rapturously with half-lidded eyes; others looked very somber. The park was quiet, but not quiet: besides the chattering birds, digital camera shutters beeped, leaves crunched underfoot, a little girl cried out, "Mommy!" And the planes kept coming, one every few minutes. McPhee played under and around their roar, stopping only once to stare up balefully at the sky. After half an hour, he lowered his instrument and said a few words about Steve Lacy, the late soprano saxophonist whose outdoor recordings had inspired McPhee to play outside himself. "Maybe we can do this again sometime," he said. "I'd really like to. Enjoy this day -- it's a great day." The audience applauded, then slowly began to disperse. A well-wisher approached, joking, "You couldn't get LaGuardia to impose a flyover ban?" "I thought the planes made it great," responded an organizer from April Is the Coolest Month, which had sponsored the event, with a patient smile. "And he was definitely playing with the planes." Looking a bit drained, McPhee sat on a low rock wall, accepting congratulations from his guests. "I was so nervous," he said. "I started shaking, and then I got goose bumps. This little tree kept hitting me in the head, and I thought it was a little kid saying 'stop.'" He stood to put his sax back in its case, then paused. "I love these ambient sounds," he said, gazing off into the woods. "It started with this recording I did. It was so hot, and I heard the birds chirping through the window, and I said, 'Don't close the window! Let's go out there!'" McPhee looked like he might like to spend the rest of the afternoon in the forest, but it was time to leave -- he had to head downtown to teach a master class in improvisation at the Brecht. His entourage began walking down the path towards the entrance. A late arrival had chalked "McPhee" on the pavement, an arrow pointing up at the trees. "McPhee, your name's all over this park!" someone hollered. The saxophonist chuckled and strolled towards a waiting car. www.joemcphee.com

desert island stuff indeed!

Of course, his beautifully melodic playing somewhat saves the show, but its a shame that the producers seemed to deem it necessary to put him in such settings. hoping you have heard his beautiful solo on the early 60's tony bennet single, the very thought of you.

http://www.jazzprofessional.com/blindfold_...wellShavers.htm

please elaborate

beautiful post!

sparks plus-----7% alcohol, but one cant taste it.

the concert sinatra (in mono)

ted heath's tribute to the fabulous dorseys

rockstar 21 with 6% alcohol.

Friendships at Odds After Talladega Tiff By JENNA FRYER AP Auto Racing Writer TALLADEGA, Ala. (AP) -- Jeff and Jimmie, Brian and Ricky. They were the Hendrick Motorsports entourage - NASCAR's very own version of the Rat Pack. But people change, things happen and friendships often fade. And after Brian Vickers stole his first career Nextel Cup victory Sunday by spinning Jimmie Johnson into leader Dale Earnhardt Jr. on the last lap at Talladega Superspeedway, things might never be the same. There were already cracks in the foundation, and Vicker's gaffe possibly caused the whole structure to crumble. "He's doing a great job of isolating himself," an angry Johnson said after the race. "I don't think he meant to do it, but he did it. He shouldn't even think about putting any of us in that situation. It's ridiculous." Pretty harsh words for a good friend. Along with Casey Mears, these guys were definitely "boys" - the NASCAR in-crowd who showed up together on the lake, in New York City nightclubs and courtside at NBA games. But things began to change shortly after Ricky Hendrick was killed in a 2004 plane accident. They all took it hard, especially Vickers, who was extremely close to Ricky and owed much of his success to his good buddy. It was Ricky who hand-picked Vickers to join the Hendrick fold, persuading his father to put him in a Busch Series ride that Vickers drove to the championship. Then he pushed his father to move Vickers into the Cup series in the No. 25 Chevrolet, the team Ricky was running. But in the two years since his death, it's quite possible that Vickers has struggled with the burden of fulfilling the expectations of his late friend. While Johnson and Jeff Gordon were racing off into championship contention, Vickers never found the same success. He was the low man on the Hendrick totem pole, the weak link in a rock-solid structure. So he asked team owner Rick Hendrick if he could leave. It wasn't an easy decision - the Hendricks are like a second family to Vickers - but he wanted a fresh start and he wanted out from the shadows of his superstar friends. Team Red Bull offered him that opportunity in a new Toyota team, and Hendrick gave Vickers his blessing while tabbing Mears to replace him. "Brian has been like a part of the family, and that's been both good and bad for both Brian and I," Hendrick said this summer. "I think it's made it hard for me to talk to Brian and treat Brian like just another driver. But at the same time I want what's best for Brian. "It's been difficult because Brian and Ricky were close. But Ricky and Casey were close. So this deal is almost like one of my children is going on to do something else, and I am getting one of my children back." So the stage was set for everyone to move on at the end of this season, but the friendships were supposed to remain intact. Only signs of a rift appeared at the start of the Chase for the championship last month in New Hampshire. Three of the four Hendrick drivers were eligible to race for the title, and Vickers was the odd man out. But Vickers had no intention of rolling over for the final 10 races of the season, and proved it in that first event by racing Gordon hard for several late laps. Gordon didn't appreciate it at all, and Vickers - who lives in the same Charlotte high-rise as Gordon - was eventually ordered to get out of his way. "It's my teammate, but he's not my teammate. He's moving on next year," Gordon explained. "He wants to win races, he wants to drive hard and I can't blame him for wanting to do that. I raced him harder than he wanted me to race him earlier in the race and I can give all the reasons and excuses, but it doesn't do any good. "I think that right now he's in a tough position. He's a guy who is moving on to a new team; he hasn't had an opportunity to win races like the other guys at Hendrick Motorsports. He wants it bad and he's driving hard. I think that was just a little bit of a lapse in judgment but it was also him getting back at me because I raced him hard earlier in the race. "It's not a guy that's out there trying to help you win a championship." Ouch. Sounds like someone won't be borrowing a cup of sugar anytime soon. Then came word last week that Vickers had been locked out of the driver meetings at Hendrick. Now he'd been totally excluded from the club. "As we all know, there are few secrets in this sport," Johnson explained. "To have someone that is leaving and going to another race team involved with some of the detailed conversations about some of the cars and technology, wouldn't be smart on behalf of Hendrick Motorsports." It all boiled over on Sunday, when Johnson was racing his way back into title contention. Junior was leading, Johnson was second and Vickers was third, and the only way Johnson was going to win that race was with help from his outcast teammate. But Vickers wanted to be a team player, and was willing to push Johnson to the win. But it all blew up when he ran into the back of Johnson to send him spinning into Earnhardt. The two leaders wrecked and Vickers drove on by for the victory. Johnson was livid and Gordon was flabbergasted. Vickers was apologetic. It was an accident after all, but a win is a win and it was his first and he happily accepted it. Now he needs to work on gaining a little forgiveness, which Vickers thinks will come. "We have been friends a long time, we are friends for a reason - not because of what happens here, we are friends elsewhere," Vickers said. "Jimmie is a great person, he is a very mature man and I am sure when the time is right, we will have our opportunity to work things out. "Relationships are always tested and they go up and down." © 2006 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed. Learn more about our Privacy Policy.

South Fallsburg girl dies after car hits tree By Heather Yakin October 04, 2006 Times Herald-Record South Fallsburg — Katheryn Werner was a dynamo, a joy and an inspiration to everyone around her. At 16, she was a photographer, a musician and a straight-A student. She feared nothing. "She was very, very bright. She was actually going to graduate a year and a half early, and she was going to take a year off to do community service and then go to NYU," said Tammy Pratt, a family friend. About 5 p.m. Monday, Katheryn "Kat" Werner was heading from karate practice in Mountaindale to her family's home in South Fallsburg when her 1995 Volvo 850 rounded a 90-degree curve on River Road and she lost control. The car hit a tree and caught fire. Some men who'd been fishing in the Neversink River just below the road heard the crash and called for help. Rescuers couldn't free Katheryn from the car. She was pronounced dead at the scene, the latest in a stream of young drivers killed in car accidents. Fallsburg police Chief Angel Lamboy said it appears that Katheryn, who had a valid junior license, was going too fast for the road and for her level of driving experience. "It wasn't a fender-bender." Lamboy said. "It was quite the impact." An autopsy will be done later today to determine the cause of Katheryn's death. Yesterday, 15-year-old Jena Berman came to a makeshift memorial, adding a handful of wildflowers to the bouquets at the base of the tree. "I can't believe this. Oh, my God," she said, searching for words. "There was something about her. She was very open to anyone she'd meet. You wouldn't feel afraid to tell her anything." Friends gathered at Katheryn's home to remember her life and to comfort her parents, Lorraine and Kenny Werner. "We've been getting lots and lots of calls," Lorraine Werner said. "We had no idea how many people she had connected with." The family moved here from New Jersey three years ago. Katheryn was home-schooled; the Fallsburg district oversaw the program. Yesterday, the district called in a crisis team to offer counseling to the students. Lauren Pratt, 17, and Emily Grigsby, 16, were home-schooled with Katheryn for a year. "She played guitar and piano. She sang," said Lauren. Katheryn had put together a photo portfolio to submit to the Aroma Thyme restaurant in Ellenville, hoping for an exhibition. Emily and Lauren plan to submit the portfolio for her. Katheryn had raised and trained a seeing-eye dog for a group that helps blind people get service dogs. She traveled the world with her father, a well-known jazz pianist. "They've got to go easy with the cars," Lorraine Werner said. "There's a lot of time. Go easy." A memorial service is planned for 6-9 p.m. tomorrow at the Colonial Memorial Funeral Home, Main Street, Woodbourne. Donations may be made in Katheryn's memory to the Prasad Project, 465 Brickman Road, Hurleyville, NY 12747. Please put Katheryn's name on the check's memo line.

the cold war it is. very familiar with adams-pullen. thanks!

http://www.sfcv.org/arts_revs/paccollegium_3_28_06.php Weird and Wonderful By Mickey Butts It was an afternoon of high eclecticism in Berkeley, as director Christopher Kula led polished choral newcomers Pacific Collegium in a clever program that delighted as much as it confounded. Audiences don't often get to hear Hindemith's Mass, nor Britten's Sacred and Profane, both pieces written close to the composers' deaths. They never get to hear Gorli's Requiem, as it was the U.S. premiere, and after today's performance it's unlikely if they ever will again. And nobody, and I mean nobody, attempts to tie this late 20th century smorgasbord together with a sly musical reference to Gesualdo, but I'll come to that later. Kula has quickly assembled a first-rate group of 17 professional singers since the ensemble's first official concert in January 2005. The group usually sticks to smartly programmed explorations of early music exotica, but it ventures into the modern realm once a year or so, this time spotlighting modern pieces with numerous early-music references. Hindemith's intellectual rigor The highlight of the concert was Paul Hindemith's Mass, written in 1963, just months before he died. Kula turbocharged this already delicious masterpiece, turning it into a liturgical re-creation interspersing chants — Gregorian propers for the Feast of the Annunciation on March 25 — with the movements of Hindemith's composition. The product of this blend of old and new was a definitive success, the chant giving the dense, intellectual writing of Hindemith's Mass room to breathe and giving the audience time to absorb its meaning. It also gave the singers a break from what must have been extremely difficult music to perform. The Introit chant began ethereally with tenors and basses in a well-blended unison, setting up Hindemith's Kyrie as sopranos came in, and then the other parts joined one by one, each line peeling off layers of musical meaning. Lush dissonances spun upward, the singers calling out repeatedly in the "Christe" section, then falling away into a low alto drone. Finally the tenors remained all alone. Pacific Collegium infused the Gloria with a full, rich sound, even though the music confounds the ablest singer to stay on pitch. A densely chorded "Amen" supplied the climax of cascading, ringing lines. Later, the Sanctus presented a formidable pitch terrain in which most choirs would have stumbled badly, but the ensemble held up until the Agnus Dei, where minor pitch problems caused Kula to subtly repitch the choir. The piece ended on a chord that finally resolved the accumulated tension that Hindemith had so solidly architected. Soprano Tania d'Amelio's solo in the Gradual chant had a warm purity of tone that was captivating. Throughout, the interior alto and tenor parts shimmered against the soprano melody, which sometimes overly dominated the sound. Occasionally, pitches on the high end of the soprano range didn't always match each other, especially amid the glissandos. The basses and sopranos were also sometimes not as unified as they could have been on the chant, and overall in the chant the singers could have been more nuanced in hypnotically propelling the line forward. (this work appears frightfully difficult to sing. the agnus dei, the last of the 6 movements, i would consider essential to any requiem party.)

ben and les?

this is the first thread i have printed out. it is a road map to where i love to go. thanks.

heavy into delius? me, too.

thank you all, for the many(unknown) suggestions, and, coming from you cats, i know they are worthy.

thanks , gentlemen!

used to love groove holmes in the bars 40 years ago, but not familiar with his recordings. recommendations.......