Gershwin's greatest song

 The other night a bunch of us were lying around listening to Guy Boleri playing the piano and he got on a Gershwin kick. And he played "Of Thee I Sing."

What a dazzling song, I was thinking. The beauty and dignity of the melody! The song starts with those gentle chromatic notes and then rises. So beautiful and bittersweet.

When it was over, as if reading my mind, my brother George spoke up.

"Gershwin's greatest song," he said.

Agreed!

Ella Fitzgerald gives it a nice uptempo performance.



 But I like a more slow and dignified performance of this song. Maybe it is the title. The version by Sarah Vaughan up above is not bad. But she fools around with the song's opening which I do not like. Sing it the way Gershwin wrote it, you know? You are not going to improve on Gershwin even if you are Sarah Vaughan.

I am a Sarah Vaughan fan with a lot of Sarah Vaughan vinyl. But I don't like this performance as much as many of her others. Still on YouTube it is the best I can find.

Oh man, listen to this. Here are outtakes from Sarah Vaughan's "Of Thee I Sing."

"I'm not with it tonight," she says. And: "I don't feel like being here. I'm just tired."

And: "There's a lovelight .... sh--!"

Am I a perceptive listener or what?

I knew something was wrong!

The Duke's flirtation

Speaking of the 10 Reasons to Play the Piano (actually more reasons, someone pointed out!) I got thinking about this thing I remembered reading that Duke Ellington had said. I actually got around to looking it up.

Here it is. I found it on Google Books. I found it in "Beyond Category: The Life and Genius of Duke Ellington," by John E. Hasse. I must have gotten this book out of the library back when I was 26 or 27 and in my Duke Ellington phase.

Whatever phase you are in the Duke knew what he was talking about!

"You know how it is," he said once. "You go home expecting to go right to bed. But then on the way, you go past the piano and there's a flirtation. It flirts with you. So you sit down and try a couple of chords and when you look up, it's 7 a.m."

I remembered that! The flirtation with the piano. That has stuck with me. When I pass my piano -- or try to walk past it -- I have often thought of what Duke Ellington said. This is funny, too: Just now, writing this up, I looked at Facebook and my friend Gary had written: "I could play the piano all night."

Another thing about the Duke, the book continues: "When he entered a room, he'd often head straight for the piano."

Wouldn't it be great to be in your living room and have Duke Ellington heading straight for your piano?

The hipster

Our friend Ari went up to Toronto last night to hear the jazz singer Mark Murphy and he took pictures.

Above is a blurry shot of him with Mark.

And here is a shot of the man himself taken by Ari in Toronto.

We have a kind of history with Mark Murphy. I always liked his records a lot and then he came to Buffalo a few years ago as a sort of artist in residence at Buffalo State College. Yikes, this must be 10 years ago we are talking about.

I got to go interview him and I remember just taking a moment to enjoy walking across campus with Mark Murphy, just the two of us, talking. Mark Murphy was wearing flip-flops. It was a beautiful day. Well, this is all right, I remember thinking. This is as things should be.

A few years ago, now this is maybe only 7 years we are talking, Mark Murphy gave a master class at my house. The word got around town and one singer showed up whom I did not even know. I opened the door and she was standing there and she shyly said: "I heard Mark Murphy was here giving a master class." And I said, "Come in."

That was my friend Laurie Bordonaro! Well, she is my friend now. We still laugh about that, how she came into the kitchen and I made her tea and she was nervous about singing for Mark Murphy.

Recently we were concerned for Mark Murphy's health but now I understand he is much better, that there was a problem with a medication or something. That is excellent news.

Here is some vintage hipster Mark Murphy blues. I really wanted his song "Miss You Mr. Mercer" but I could not find that on YouTube. But this is fun.

Hit it, Mr. Murphy!

Misty watercolor memories

Last night I went to the Pine Grill Reunion, the free jazz concert on Buffalo's East Side, and I caught Houston Person, the great saxophonist.

Houston Person, playing the same ol' beat-up looking sax he always plays, played an unusual jazz number. He played "The Way We Were."

It goes great on saxophone as you can hear here. Hear, hear!

It is perfect for Person's way of playing which is natural and conversational. Unfortunately that YouTube clip, which comes from another time and another place, cuts off the beginning of the melody. But it gives you an idea of what Houston can do.

As long as I have known Houston Person he has been an old man. That is strange because I remember first seeing him, I think, 10 years ago. He used to come to Buffalo's Calumet Arts Cafe with Etta Jones, his wife, or girlfriend, or whatever she was. Those evenings were glorious. Then we heard them both at the Pine Grill Reunion several years ago, just a few weeks before she died. He is just a wonderful natural player. That is a quality I love in Pennario's playing and it is not as common as you think. There are so many artists, both in classical and in jazz, who over-engineer things.

"The Way We Were" is a pretty song. Marvin Hamlisch is a good songwriter. Nice guy, too. See, I cannot say he is a nice person because writing about Houston Person that could get confusing!

We had a blast with Hamlisch here in Buffalo when he was our pops conductor for a few years. Well,  I did, anyway. I do not know if everyone did!

Once I had the idea for a story to trail around after him for a day. It was hysterical. This BPO staffer drove us around in a little compact car. You had big Hamlisch getting in and out of this tiny front seat. I was his briefcase carrier, was another thing. It was never discussed but every time Hamlisch and I got into this little car -- I was in the back seat -- Hamlisch would hand me his briefcase.

He got cookies from somewhere and was handing me cookies in the back seat. I remember that too.

Fond memories of Marvin Hamlisch! And Houston Person.

And the way we were.