In no particular order, and among many others . . .
Ralph Towner, Solstice, 1974
Bennie Maupin, The Jewel in the Lotus, 1974
Elvin Jones, Genesis, 1971
Bobby Hutcherson, Total Eclipse, 1968
Ornette Coleman, Free Jazz, 1960
Miles Davis, Bitches Brew, 1969
Sonny Sharrock, Ask the Ages, 1991
Clifford Brown and Max Roach, Brown and Roach Incorporated, 1954
Steve Lacy, Reflections, 1958
John Coltrane, Bye Bye Blackbird, 1962
Charles Mingus, Blues and Roots, 1959
Two of 50
Through June 23, the Milwaukee Art Museum is showing a curated group of 50 international artists who are active as practicing painters. I am a painter, and I attended the show expecting to be generally disappointed; however, I was pleasantly surprised. (I think I expected to see a lot of work that wasn’t actually painting?) The two paintings below were among several that made me excited to get back in my studio. The works by Magalie Guerin and Yun-Fei Ji have a fresh approach to the medium while being conversant with historical considerations.
Cecil Taylor, jazz pianist
Out to loyalty to a former painting professor’s good musical tastes, I keep trying Cecil Taylor. I think of him as a kind of analytical cubist jazz player. I recently picked up a used copy of Love for Sale (Blue Note, 1959) and have given it repeated listenings, which is not always the case with this artist. I recommend the title cut for those who are a little bit brave and curious. Love for Sale made me revisit my copy of New York City R&B (Candid, 1961.) “Things Ain’t What They Used to Be” is a hoot, including a brief and wonderful solo by trumpeter Clark Terry, of all people!
For those listeners interested in really good drummers, Dennis (or Denis) Charles is on the 1959 set, and Billy Higgins is on the 1961.
TASCHEN Monet
Taschen’s small-format artist monographs are amazing, aren’t they. Clean, friendly book design, and smart, accessible content, and outstanding reproduction quality set the bar very high for users of art books. Christoph Heinrich’s 2007 Monet is an excellent resource for readers with a casual interest in Monet, and it’s full of pleasant surprises for artists and scholars who have a more serious interest. I studied Monet in a graduate art history class, and I refer to Impressionism in a theory course, so Heinrich’s explanation of the Salon and Monet’s interactions with it provided me good reminders and new insights about the context of his beginnings as a French painter. (My bonus serendipity about this title is that I picked it up while reading through Zola’s The Ladies Paradise. The time period of Heinrich’s first chapter and Zola’s novel align precisely.) And the opening, verso, full-page reproduction of Studio Still Life, 1861, is gorgeous!