Lollipop Lemon

12"x8" oil on canvas panel What better flavor to follow lime than lemon? Absolutely no segue for this, but here goes... Jazz is my favorite form of music. There, I admit it. I am not an all-knowing connoisseur, so do not shoot me any technical questions trying to stump me and prove you are smarter than me about it. Let's just go with the assumption that you are smarter than me and leave it at that. Proof of my love of jazz: While Led Zeppelin or Steely Dan may have been playing in the background, my brother and I would actually be debating who was the greater songstress: Carmen McRae (my brother's choice) or Sarah Vaughan (my lady). It was a given that this argument was, in a sense, for second place because the undisputed American Lady of Song was (in our humble opinions) obviously Ella Fitzgerald. To us, Ms. Fitzgerald held an unassailable position of greatness. More Proof: As a kid, I wore out the grooves on a couple of Wes Montgomery and Buddy Rich albums. Seriously, the grooves were worn away. What brought on this confession and reminiscing? Horace Silver died. Mr. Silver was 85 years young when he passed away yesterday. In my mind, in the arc of jazz history, there is this amazing middle that was just so powerful, so damn good, that it formed a backbone within the art form. I consider Mr. Silver to have been a member of that backbone and his passing has given me pause to think about my love of the American Art Form. Sorry to torture you with the above diatribe, but believe me when I say that I am sparing you, because I could go on and on about jazz. Let's just end it with my suggestion to go listen to a little of Mr. Silver's music.
Posted June 19, 2014

sold • private collection washington, dc

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