They were all accomplished jazz musicians, coming together for a concert in the Marin. Five people. Five instruments. They played. There was no fire.
I wanted their sounds to amalgamate. I wanted them to combust, to turn their individual beauty into something larger and new. Out of five musicians there should have been born a sixth, with elements of the parents and a unique voice that makes its presence known.
Not easy, with everyone’s busy schedule. Clearly the musicians have not rehearsed. You can’t have a child if you don’t come together to make love.
Their solos were filled with virtuosity, going their separate ways.
Image taken from: therefectoryrestaurant.com
That stuff happens if you don’t listen. And if you don’t listen, you are not a musician.