That third night was a charm.
Walking with you
arm in arm
along Eighth Avenue or maybe it was Seventh?
I can’t tell because
I’ve been under a spell
since that third night.
One thing is sure,
what I felt was pure.
Enchanted by each word
I’m certain I heard
my soul’s echo in your voice.
Through incantation and my
you opened a portal
and led me into the Marvelous!
Try as I might,
I’ve lost all sight
of life before — those three nights.
Through calm assurance,
patience and endurance,
you discovered the lover in me.
Solo navigation would never reach this elevation.
Together we achieved
what I’d hardly conceived;
we made love real
and the possibilities are still–
bringing me to my knees.
your touch, your scent, your time
and the way you penetrated my
I left a trail of blood
on Eighth Avenue or maybe it was Seventh?
proof I died that day.
Our souls connected
I was resurrected–
through the gift of sight.
On sunny days,
this charm glistens,
shines so bright,
it hurts my eyes.
I’m surprised I’m not blind
—or maybe I am?
On dark days
(not to mention the nights),
my mind plays
I see glimmers of light
no one else can see and when
like a blanket of lead
–on these very darkest of nights–
I hold my charm tightly
but it doesn’t shine
I rub it in my hands,
press it to my lips
and feel its soft glow.
I see what I feel
and because I feel, I know–
that third night was a charm.
If you are cold,
this charm will make you warm.
If you are in darkness,
it’ll give you light.
It’s tarnished, you say?
that’s only because
you can’t see
as deeply as me.
My reply? Open your third eye.
That third night was a charm.
Walking with me
arm in arm
along Eighth Avenue– or maybe it was Seventh?
Re-member the magic
in that moment.
On Friday, January 29th at 8:30PM, the Emilio Modeste Quartet will perform two sets of jazz at The Bronx Beer Hall. Located at 2344 Arthur Avenue, the Bronx Beer Hall is situated on an iconic avenue, steeped in the cultural history of the Bronx. Come early and stay late, personnel: Emilio Modeste (tenor and soprano sax), Jordan Carr (drums), Jason Clotter (bass), and Leo Posel (piano).
What I love most about this? These young musicians are deeply engaged in the arts, committed to sharing their talent, and engaging audiences in and through the music. Despite all the available options in New York City on a Friday night, these guys want to perform — for you, for me, for us. They are sharing themselves and being courageous in ways that matter. Also, let’s remember, a set list has a narrative arc and requires careful consideration of audience, timing, flow, and emotional intensity. Collaboration is necessary to the performance and begins long before the musicians step onto the stage. Band members collaborate musically and verbally as they discern which songs might best suit the audience and the idea they intend to convey. Time management skills are honed during the process of preparing for a gig and the pressure builds until the night of the performance. These young musicians must balance academic, rehearsal, practice, family and other demands on their time and attention. The gig is the “test” — the performance will be assessed by the audience, the management/owners, and by the band itself. It’s no wonder the Every Student Succeeds Act passed and will now integrate the arts meaningfully into a well-rounded curriculum for k-12 students.
These kids are musicians and entrepreneurs, they are also educators in their own right because through their music, the dare to make us all more culturally literate. Join us at the Bronx Beer Hall on Friday, 1/29 and see for yourself.
It’s been a looooong time…. I took a hiatus from blogging, Trading Fours with Drs. Modeste & Wes, and from social media in general, to regroup; to spend some time thinking about what I want to do and how. What I’ve learned, re-affirmed, is — I love “educating.” Facilitating the learning process by encouraging smart conversations really energizes and delights me. I enjoy knowing what people think, how they process information and make sense of the world. Given all the outrageous, heartbreaking, problematic, and frightfully topical news coverage of late — I am more committed to educating than ever.
We need to think deeply, creatively and critically (not for the uninteresting sake of being critical). We need to listen to one another and be smarter. We need to engage thoughtfully. We need to be like jazz musicians in our thinking, interacting, and problem solving.
On Tuesday, June 30th, I’ll be at NYC’s legendary Cornelia Street Cafe with my colleague, Bassist and Principal of Jazz Impact Michael Gold, offering a workshop, “Finding Your Groove: the Art of Teaching Through Jazz.”
We’ll address three main questions:
Why is it hard to “hear” new ideas?
How do great teachers teach critical thinking?
How do we cultivate curiosity?
This is part of what I’ll be doing to help make a difference. If you’re in NYC, or can be, join us and “BE” in our incredible creative space for learning. Let’s make a difference. Spread the word and Find YOUR Groove….
Tuesday, June 30th — 6-7:30PM
The Cornelia Street Cafe — 29 Cornelia Street, NYC 10014
The response to the new Louis Armstrong Jazz Camp for Adults has been substantial. I am delighted so many of you want to incorporate a jazz sensibility into their way of engaging with students, clients, and customers. Be sure to follow us on Twitter @SatchmoSwings Together we’ll surely get the world to swing.
Cheating is a pervasive in our educational system; ok, yes, and in so many other areas of recent angst such as finance and banking/loans. But for now…
As the US tries to find new ways to emulate the Chinese system of educating, we’d do well to keep in mind the outcome of such efforts. When a sole test is the primary determinant for admission to college – which students are told is mandatory if they are to lead meaningful lives as middle-class citizens – then, we should expect a high incidence of cheating. Sal Bommarito’s suggestion that we teach ethics courses in school is just fine but is inadequate in combating the systemic problem of cheating. We have a cultural problem. Integrity is not learned in one class or even in a series of classes. It is cultivated over time and should be integrated into every aspect of learning, in the classroom and beyond its walls.
There is no way to “cheat” on a musical jury. There is no way to fake your way through an audition for acting, dance, or voice. There is simply no way to hide your inadequacies in sculpting, paining or design. Live performance requires authenticity. Our blind quest to mass produce education via standardized tests administered to swaths of students holed up in testing centers, leaves us ill prepared to identify the fakers in our midst. Artists practice integrity every day.
Matt Schiavenza notes that China’s educational system reflects “ancient Confucian principles” and “places an overwhelming emphasis on “memorization, recitation, and examination.” This makes sense because Confucius is so important in Chinese culture. Shouldn’t we value our own culture? The fierce independent spirit and innovation associated with being American should be at the core of our educational endeavors, impact pedagogy and guide policy decisions. Our obsessive and rather mindless obsession with testing illuminates the very worst parts of US culture; namely, our obsession with consumerism and this undermines our global legitimacy – it always has.
One reason jazz is so often associated with democracy is that the music is egalitarian. This means, anyone who desires to play jazz can participate. French horns, bassoons, saxophones, drums of any sort, Middle Eastern instruments, foot stomping, hand clapping, singing, humming and the like can all be used to perform jazz. The prerequisite for participation is a basic understanding of the instrument you choose to articulate your voice. It seems to me that our system of educating should also be egalitarian and reflect our democracy and culture of innovation.
So, here are some questions to consider: How do we honor our culture through education? Who is important in US culture and what aspects of their importance do we want to model? How might we transfer the best aspects of our culture into our pedagogy? How can we restructure, influence and so reshape our educational policies to be more in line with the richness of our culture? SeminArts and SeminArts LIVE!!!will explore these questions and more. Stay tuned…
“Identity is best defined in terms of culture… American culture, even in the most rigidly segregated precincts, is patently and irrevocably composite. It is, regardless of all the hysterical protestations of those who would have it otherwise, incontestably mulatto.”
Of all the lessons I leaned from Murray, this nugget of truth – first imparted to the masses in his 1970 seminal text The Omni Americans – continues to resonate with immediacy. Simply stated, we are what we do; and if we are doing it in the same country, certainly in the same region, state, city or municipality, we are more similar than dissimilar despite efforts to accentuate the contrary.
But wait, aren’t Americans known for individuality? Don’t efforts to describe our culture as homogenous not only defy our national identity as historically articulated but also undermine today’s push to articulate our onlyness and to differentiate our unique qualities amidst global competition? Well, yes, and no…
An Air Force officer trained along with the famous Tuskegee Airmen, Murray was well-traveled and lived overseas during various stints of military service. His hunger for exploration, however, was cultivated as a child living in a port city just outside of Mobile, Alabama. Ships from various parts of the world arrived in Mobile, sailors would disembark, and cultural integration and discovery began anew with each docking. This curiosity, inherent in childhood, was cultivated daily. Murray describes the wanderlust inspired by geography and topography through the voice of his protagonist, Scooter:
“You couldn’t see the L&N Bridge from the skiff boat landing where we were standing then, but we knew where it was because it was also the gateway through which the Chickasabogue, which was really a tributary, flowed out into the Mobile River which led down into Mobile Bay which spread out into the Gulf of Mexico which was a part of the old Spanish Main which was the beginning of the Seven Seas” which of course, could take you anywhere in the world.
Murray also credits his English teachers for making him cognizant of the personal and social responsibility to travel. Morteza Drexel Sprague at Tuskegee and Mr. Baker at the Mobile County Training School considered racial progress (remember, this is the 1920s – 30s Jim Crow US Deep South) synonymous with “epical exploits” such as “penetrating frontiers and thereby expanding [a] people’s horizons of aspirations.” In other words, Murray owed it to his people to penetrate borders and to integrate himself into as wide an array of possibilities as possible because in so doing, he led others to push past borders of every type, both real and imagined. (Albert Murray, South to a Very Old Place, 132: 1970) Certainly this has particular resonance in domestic communities of color and the historically marginalized the world over. Yet when considered broadly, this notion moves us into enlightened discussions of immigration, global population shifts, and the associated political and legal requirements of facilitating such mobility. Cultivating citizen diplomats who know their place in the world — literally and figuratively — is a matter of education and is necessary for both the kindergartener who learns “A” is for Afghanistan and the executive in a multinational corporation.
One of my favorite quotes is Murray’s definition of the break. He writes, “Nor is the break just another mechanical structural device. It is of its very nature, as dancers never forget, what the basic message comes down to: grace under pressure, creativity in an emergency, continuity in the face of disjuncture. It is on the break that you are required to improvise, to do your thing, to establish your identity, to write your signature on the epidermis of actuality which is to say entropy.”
As we wonder how to “come back” after the devastating financial crisis and how to position ourselves given the pending crisis in education, we’d do well to learn resilience from the creative arts where asserting individuality and making a comeback are routine. “For what is ultimately at stake is morale, which is to say the will to persevere, the disposition to persist and perhaps prevail; and what must be avoided by all means is a failure of nerve.” (Albert Murray, Stomping the Blues, 10: 1976)
In 2001, as if reminding us to stay focused on collective progress, Murray offered a few words on protest. He wrote, “Protest is something that you must always be extremely careful about, because it can degenerate so easily into the self-righteousness of those who regard themselves as victims rather than people of potential and thus become more emotional than insightful and corrective.” Murray wanted “smart” conversation about our shared direction and he was clear, “Military rhetoric is not enough. And besides, it doesn’t require the high grade point average that the truly qualified leader must earn.”
I think about our political discourse and Frank Bruni’s recent article lamenting our uninformed citizenry and know the continued relevance of Murray’s wisdom.
Albert Murray outlived his two closest friends, Ralph Ellison and Romare Bearden or “Romy” as Murray called him. Murray turned 97 on May 12th and he doesn’t always recognize me these days. We’ve passed the point where he can carry on the intellectually rigorous conversations of the past but Murray is as feisty as ever and though his speech is compromised, he still enunciates some very “choice” phrases that mark the privilege of the aged and wise. He comes to life when he hears music; his momentary lucidity makes for some truly wondrous moments. Albert Murray is a man of ideas and his landmark contributions to cultural history and to the blues and jazz in particular, form the foundation for much of the debate on these subjects today. Yet because the blues and jazz are inextricable parts of US identity, the study of these fields offers insight beyond the stage. Indeed, Murray’s writing provides us with gems of wisdom that can help us build institutions and systems that more closely align with our national identity and steady us as we push ever onward towards being a more perfect union.
Did you know Don Tapscott plays the Hammond B3 organ? Don’s commentary always makes good sense to me because I “hear” where he’s coming from. His ideas on collaboration are applied on the Hammond B3, that’s what music is – applied knowledge.
Collaborative decision management: Don says we should think of social media tools – blogging, ideation tools, jams (more on that later), etc. – as the “new operating systems for the 21st century enterprise.” He says, “these are the platforms upon which talent – you can think of talent as the app – works, and performs, and creates capability.”
Knowledge: rather than viewing knowledge as something we should contain once a valued employee (in Don’s example) leaves a firm; we should view knowledge as an “infinite resource.” We should not try to contain it but should use knowledge to collaborate.
Collaborative suites: facilitate the movement of ideas within and across sectors.
Brilliant! But then, Don’s a musician and so he “gets” the notion of working collaboratively.
1. What I really like about this is that it is user-friendly; it invites participation in the decision-making process. At every point of integration — where ideas come into contact with one another — there is the opportunity to forge deeper meaning and more complete understanding. You can get to best practices doing this. From novice to expert, ideas are cultivated and expressed. This yields the ultimate “buy in” because everyone’s voice is validated; it’s democracy in action, it’s jazz. Think about jazz as an open platform and the saxophone as a tool. You can give the horn to a novice and the music created will sound a certain way and serve a certain purpose. Now, give the same horn to a virtuoso…
Sonny Rollins performing, “St.Thomas”
2. Containment conjures images of the Cold War and the ideological battle between the United States and Russia as we tried to “contain” the spread of communism. Here’s the thing, democracy “won” by spreading the idea of free and open societies. When knowledge is freed — when it is thought of as an “infinite resource” — it works the same way and for the same reason, collaboration has a multiplier effect. Ideas regenerate and penetrate barriers, both real and perceived.
3. Musical suites are collaborative extended works, divided into sections or themes that are connected by transitions. While each segment could stand alone, it does not; instead, each part is integrated into a unified whole via carefully considered, nuanced transitions. I can imagine Don’s collaborative suites working the same way, connecting related and/or seemingly disparate ideas drawn from different segments of an organization into a unified elaborate whole. The processes developed to do this work help businesses cultivate ideas and create a culture for so doing.
My all-time-favorite suite is Duke Ellington’s, The Queen’s Suite … Here’s the most popular segment, “Single Petal of a Rose”
…so, now I’m off to think about assessments. Why?
Because if social media is a “platform upon which talent works”; then, we learn can learn much about the nature of work, skills required to perform tasks and efficiencies, and the way in which these skills lead to or support desired outcomes. Lots of transference in the educational sector regarding testing and school, student, and teacher assessments. But for now, check out this video of Jimmy Smith, playing “Back at the Chicken Shack” … I’d love to know the back story on that… and Don, this one’s for you. Keep swingin!