A great deal of art is description, or at least representation. Describing or representing love, hate, the universe. None is the right description. Nor the wrong one. This is art after all.
Author: John Clare
John Clare was born at Maroubra Bay in 1940. He has written on diverse topics for most major Australian publications, including The Sydney Morning Herald, The Age, The Australian, The National Times and Nation Review, as well as Town and Queen magazines in England. His poetry has appeared in Poetry Australia and New Poetry and has been read on the ABC’s old Quality Street programme. He has published three books: Bodgie Dada: Australian Jazz Since 1945 (UNSW Press), Low Rent (Text) and Why Wangaratta?: Ten Years Of The Wangaratta Festival of Jazz (Victorian Tourist Bureau). John currently reviews books for The Sun-Herald and writes essays and reviews for SIMA.org.au
Sydney’s Jazzgroove association fifth Summer Fiesta was spread over three venues in Ultimo: Foundry616, Lord Wolseley (I was judged too declassé to admit here) and […] Read More
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John Clare lost his wallet on the way to Wangaratta this year, but he says “to hear Rava with Steve Magnusson was worth losing my money and cards for”
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The horn unison passages have the extraordinary unity – bright and seemingly electrically fused – that characterised the famous pairing or alto saxophonist Ornette Coleman and trumpeter Don Cherry; while their solos are freely melodic, somewhat in the Coleman vein.
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The Foundry 616 Harris & Mary Ann Streets, Ultimo, Sydney. 3 September 2014 Review by John Clare Walking from Glebe to the relatively new jazz […] Read More
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When I listen to music that has an important place in history I sometimes gaze out the window and feel the here and now more intensely, while also feeling myself in the time when this particular style emerged. I do the same with Haydn, Ornette Coleman and the Beatles. I’m not sure why, but it makes you feel very alive.
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“When Jackson first recorded – with the subtle and distinctive Trio Apoplectic – I was not the only one who found a surprising echo of the floating lyricism, unusual intervals and limpid sound of Paul Desmond…”
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This is a disc you should perhaps listen to casually at first, (perhaps while ironing your sheets or perhaps just your shirts) then return and take your place in this remarkably silent audience.
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‘…his trio has played together intermittently without homicidal incident since 2011.’
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It would be silly not to have this in your collection of music.
