Rikke & Hanne Kesten wrote:
>
> Frederick: What you describe in your post is
amazingly true to a lone
> sax player who plays nights during warm weather in
New York City on
> Fifth Avenue between 54th & 55th Streets. Empty
streets, occasional
> light traffic flowing southward keeping up with timed
traffic signals,
> smoke billowing from manholes, and the most
heart-rending, magnificent
> sound echoing off empty office buildings through the
empty streets.
> I often drop a buck or two into his music case, cross
the wide avenue
> and stand, listening, for an eternity.
> --steve kesten
>
> Frederick Zackel wrote:
> >
> > Delurking (or decloaking perhaps...)
> >
> > Imagine a saxophone player at ground zero for a
big city's skyline. He
> > (or she) is surrounded by forty, fifty floor
skyscrapers, all concrete and
> > glass. It's after midnight, and the buildings
glow like honeycombs lit
> > from inside. Much of the light that hit the
sidewalks is light bounced
> > down from these empty offices
> >
> > The sax man plays to no one, to everyone, but
the streets are empty, and
> > the sounds echo and echo again off the cold,
silent buildings. No one is
> > listening, and he empties his soul....
> >
> > In the daytime the city is a destination, a
goal, a journey every
> > individual is on. At night, the city is a
presence, alive, a hulk in the
> > dark.
> >
> > The PI is jazz; jazz is the PI.
> >
> > Frederick Zackel
> >
> > author of "Cocaine & Blue Eyes" and
"Cinderella After Midnight"
> >
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