• A brief history of World War II’s impact on New York’s 52nd Street, as told by Arnold Shaw, author of 52nd Street:  The Street of Jazz
  • In this edition, Art Blakey tells a story of Thelonious Monk, Coleman Hawkins and John Coltrane that took place during the 1957 recording session of Monk’s Music.

     

  • Poet Lawrence J. Klumas honors the jazz singer Chris Connor


     

     

  • Ms. Larson’s story, “The Happy Thing of Bayou de Manque,” is the winner of the 47th Jerry Jazz Musician Short Fiction Contest.
  • "War Comes to 52nd Street"
  • Great Encounters #52
  • A poetic appreciation of Chris Connor
  • A short story by Erin Larson
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Where I’ve Been

February and early March have been consumed by my work as Board Chair of PDX Jazz (Portland, Oregon), the presenting organization of the PDX Jazz Festival, which this year took place Feb. 15 – 25.   Immediately following the Festival, I spent some time out on the road with a dear friend, exploring the clubs and museums of Kansas City and the surrounding prairie.  Some highlights of the Festival events and

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Literature » Poetry

“With Us Yet” — a poem by Susandale

Theirs’ was a kind of mediation between then and now
No, it was a meditation on their only freedom: the deliverance of their music
No, no: a melding. One musician calling out: another answering.
Or maybe, a metaphor for the chorus of life
The way Lady-Day lamented the brief glory of

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Literature » Short Fiction

“Alto Saxophone” — a short story by Joe DiBuduo

      In a little town in Illinois, in a bar near the Wisconsin border, one man blew honey-dripping sounds from his saxophone. A woman’s body swayed in time with the sweetness emitting from that horn. She kept time with the beat and moved like melodic notes going up and down the scale. I imagined blowing musical sounds into her ear.

      I crossed the wooden dance floor where she whirled, grabbed her hand and began to spin. Like musical notes, one black, one white, we danced all night. I softly sang into her ear, “Imagine how we’d dance in bed.”

      She laughed in a low contralto voice, and changed it to a soprano when the high notes flowed.

      Later when we were in bed and music played on her expensive speakers we continued our

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