The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

March 18, 1955

Charlie Parker died fifty years ago today.

Here are four images from back in the day:

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A rare color photograph, 1952

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Backstage at Carnegie Hall, 1947

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With Red Rodney; watching Dizzy work, 1947

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In New York; near the end, 1954

"Music is your own experience, your own thoughts, your wisdom. If you don't live it, it won't come out your horn. They teach you there's a boundary line to music. But, man, there's no boundary line to art."
-- Charles Christopher Parker, jr.

(many thanks to Bob Keser for reminding me what day it was, lest I forgot)
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1 comment:

Rob said...

Whatever happened to his plastic sax?

March 18, 2005 9:21 PM

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