Page 13 - Jazz

Here one could find and step on to the pontoon bridge which spanned the distance from the inter-war
period over the years of the Communist era and over the “golden years” of Pop to ambient Jazz, rare and
somehow limited, compressed into the commercial premises where it was played. But it was still good quality
jazz.
It was here that I first heard someone other than Janis Joplin play Summertime, although I will never
abandon the version by that angelic-reprobate soloist either. Because, even if jazz has come to be for me a way of
feeling a particular way, what progressive rock, blues and pieces from the other musical genres that have awoken
vibrations in me have done cannot be cancelled out and one cannot start constructing ridiculous hierarchies, since
each of the genres represents a colour in the rainbow that arches over my life whenever I have the power to step
out of the course of time and look within.
And for me it could be said that “everything comes from music”, but not only from music but from the
atemporal space that I have discovered and that allows me to enter into it for a few moments. Together with the
immaterial substance of the word, with the sound of colour, with the radiation of form, with the alchemical reality
of sound, there where all the sparks of light from us congregate – our portion of the divine which once discovered
has the healing power to display the world differently from in its transitory daily ritual that is imbued by
suffering and illusions. To display the world in the form of a moment extended/stretching towards the boundless,
in which you can whisper in beatitude, blessedness and joy that you rejoice that you are alive and that you can
listen like this and that thus listening you are alive, you live indeed.

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