August is a state of mind

Ella Fitzgerald

What can I say?
She was (and is) one of the definitions of beauty.





































A musician's nightmare (one of them that is) may well be being confronted with having to interpret something so apparently overdone that the mere thought of it makes him or her queasy, but, all of a sudden out of nowhere something (or rather "someone") happens.
Along comes Ella, telling us - making us feel - we are but fools
(I'm pretty sure someone of her stature would never utter such a thing, or even feel it.
She did so, even if unwittingly, for such is the way with unuttered truths when we come across them).
Genius is always able to, with authority, show us profound truth through a bafflingly simple gesture, interpretation, creation, quickly scribbled line of words, or equation.  Of course, it can also be more elaborate and remarkably so, but, it always seems to reveal its "stuff" as if it were a quick turn of a wrist, or a dew drop falling into a pail of water; and it does so with an uncanny and apparent simplicity.

August is here.
Sometimes it's always present, as when Time seems to stop (similar to the times when one sees, hears, or touches something beautiful, and even if in mere recollection within the mind's eye, ear or body).
The word "sometimes" seems odd, doesn't it?
It seems that one of the "relative" aspects of the dimension - Time - is its subjectivity.
When time slows down or more than that, when it "stops", everything and anything is "always".

In this sense "August" is a state of mind.




________________________________________


I had just seen this y-tube video of Ella's Summertime. It was posted on social media by a dear friend (Luisa Vasquez).

I thought to myself  «Oh my goodness, it's "Summertime" ...but, but, but, ..but it's Ella. I have to hear it; I simply have to,» - and was of course, mesmerized.

Here is a case when one is so very thankful for "recordings".  I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to actually be in the presence of such a rendition, but, one thing I can say, thank goodness for it having been recorded.



No matter the instrument, be it a trumpet, sax, voice, bass, drums, tablas, piano or whatever it may be, it is not merely a case of tone, phrasing, dynamics or general technical ability. It's a case of "authenticity".
That's why it hits you - 'smack' - in the gut.
That's why Time changes speed.
That's why "Space" changes its shape and dimensions.
That's when we are confronted with our own being, and perceive it - through Time & through Space.



She has given me back
"Summertime".



The mark of someone truly extraordinary is when they keep on moving us, even when they're no longer here.







(of course - I prefer it when they're still around but that's another issue, having to do with the selfishness of not appreciating their going off to some other plane.., we can be a greedy lot, i know i am, and in some instances my greed has no limits. Acceptance is one thing, the joy and greed for having certain "someones" around - while we're still here, is quite another)


Happy August.

Quando uma pessoa despeja (por assim dizer) o que lhe vai na alma, 
numa língua, fica-se sem 
vontade em se auto-traduzir,
 ao contrário do caso de traduzir outras pessoas
 (falo por mim, está claro).
 Não é por falta de amizade a quem
 lê noutras línguas, de todo, mas por me sentir em repetição.
 Será uma falha minha, bem sei, e por isso peço desculpa.

 Em todo o caso, o que digo não é importante,
 o que o é neste artigo, sem dúvida, é a interpretação
 e a alma de quem assim canta.

 Tenho sempre aquele respeito especial por quem cria
 mas, no caso musical, por exemplo, 
não pode ficar por aí simplesmente.
 É o interprete, e a sua
 interpretação, quer seja a do próprio autor,
 quer seja a de outra pessoa, que
 nos oferece a obra - e se com este nível de "genuinidade",

 isso não é menos precioso.
 Uma coisa não tira à outra.

Aqui, para além da notável presença desta mulher tão,
 mas tão especial,
 é o trabalho de conjunto,
 coisa que também nos impõe uma beleza formidável,
 e que nos oferece assim, de novo,
 a notável criação.

São coisas assim, e falo por mim, que nos remetem à fragilidade e grandeza da vida, do efémero da mesma, da beleza da
 mortalidade e da doçura de qualquer estação que, na verdade, pode nos habitar em (e a) qualquer altura.

Desejando-vos, a todos que por aqui passem, um belíssimo Agosto.

M.C.

(Não posso deixar de agradecer a uma querida amiga, a Luisa Vasquez,
 por ter colocado esta versão, deste clássico que acabo de ver, numa rede social)