"We rode out the depression on technique." How gratifying,
how rare,
Such expressions of a proper modesty. Notice it was not said
By T. Dorsey, who could not play a respectable “Honeysuckle
Rose” on a kazoo.
But by the man who turned the first jazz concert in Carnegie
Hall
Into an artistic event and put black musicians on the stand with
white ones equally,
The man who called himself Barefoot Jackson, or some such,
In order to be a sideman with Mel Powell on a small label
And made good music on “Blue Skies,” etc. He knew exactly
who he was, nor more, no less.
It was rare and gratifying, as I’ve sid. Do you remember the
Incan priestling, Xtlgg, who said,
“Oh Lord Sun, we are probably not good enough to exalt thee,”
And got himself
Flung over the wall at Machu Pichu for his candor?
I honor him for that, but I like him because his statement
implies
That if he had foreseen the outcome he might not have said it.
But he did say it. Candor seeks it own unforeseeable occasions.
Once in America in a dark time the existentialist flatfoot floogie
stomped across the land
Accompanied by a small floy floy. I think we shall not see their
like in our people’s art again.
-Hayden Carruth
from his Toward the Distant Islands : new & selected poems
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