Sonia Delaunay: Rythme, 1938 (Centre Pompodou)
"She even gave her colours their own names – crocodile (beige to brown), cactus (green), capucine (orange) – and applied them to a vast range of mediums. ‘For me, there was no gap between my painting and what is called my “decorative” work,’ she said."

Sonia Delaunay: Rythme, 1938 (Centre Pompodou)

"She even gave her colours their own names – crocodile (beige to brown), cactus (green), capucine (orange) – and applied them to a vast range of mediums. ‘For me, there was no gap between my painting and what is called my “decorative” work,’ she said."

mpiedlourde

Webster’s best friend was fellow tenor man Coleman ‘Hawk’ Hawkins, and this is a fine collaborative effort. Ben goes first, and Bean follows…

Ben Webster & Coleman Hawkins: It Never Entered My Mind - from Coleman Hawkins Encounters Ben Webster, 1959 (recorded October 16, 1957)

Coleman Hawkins - tenor saxophone; Ben Webster - tenor saxophone; Oscar Peterson - piano; Herb Ellis - guitar; Ray Brown - bass; Alvin Stoller - drums

(via mpiedlourde)

alivesoul

Jazzman Ben Webster (Mar. 27, 1909 - 1973) was nicknamed “The Brute” when he was a young, ballsy stomp tenor player. Later he mellowed into the finest balladeer on his instrument ever, IMHO.

Tonight we honor him on his 105th anniversary and I might go visit him at Assistens Cemetery in Copenhagen tomorrow…

Ben Webster: Midnight Blue - from See You At the Fair, 1964

Personnel: Ben Webster: tenor sax; Thad Jones: trumpet; Phil Bodner: tenor sax, English horn; Phil Woods: tenor sax; Pepper Adams: baritone sax; Roger Kellaway: piano; Richard Davis: bass; Grady Tate: drums & Oliver Nelson: arranger, conductor, leader…

(via alivesoul)

lumpy-pudding

Frank O’Hara’s birthday again (Mar. 27, 1926 - 1966). Let’s have a song!

——

SONG

Is it dirty
does it look dirty
that’s what you think of in the city

does it just seem dirty
that’s what you think of in the city
you don’t refuse to breathe do you

someone comes along with a very bad character
he seems attractive. is he really. yes very
he’s attractive as his character is bad. is it. yes

that’s what you think of in the city
run your finger along your no-moss mind
that’s not a thought that’s soot

and you take a lot of dirt off someone
is the character less bad. no. it improves constantly
you don’t refuse to breathe do you

Originally written 1951 - from Poems Retrieved (City Lights, 2013)

Reading by Frank O’Hara, 1965

(via aspiringivory)

Happy 95th to young Larry!
From The canticle of Jack Kerouac
6.

And then Ti-Jean Jack with Joual tongue
      disguised as an American fullback in plaid shirt   
          crossing and recrossing America
                                             in speedy cars   
    a Dr. Sax’s shadow shadowing him
      like a shroudy cloud over the landscape   
       Song of the Open Road sung drunken
               with Whitman and Jack London and Thomas Wolfe
            still echoing through
                            a Nineteen Thirties America   
                            A Nineteen Forties America   
                            an America now long gone
               except in broken down dusty old
                                              Greyhound Bus stations
                   in small lost towns
       Ti-Jean’s vision of America
                seen from a moving car window
                      the same as Wolfe’s lonely
                                                sweeping vision
                  glimpsed from a coach-train long ago
       (‘And thus did he see first the dark land’)   
And so Jack
                in an angel midnight bar
   somewhere West of Middle America
          where one drunk madonna
                        (shades of one on a Merrimac corner)   
      makes him a gesture with her eyes
                                                       a blue gesture   
          and Ti-Jean answers
                                       only with his eyes   
And the night goes on with them
       And the light comes up on them
                      making love in a parking lot

— Lawrence Ferlinghetti

 (photo by Harry Redl, San Francisco 1958)

Happy 95th to young Larry!

From The canticle of Jack Kerouac

6.
And then Ti-Jean Jack with Joual tongue
      disguised as an American fullback in plaid shirt   
          crossing and recrossing America
                                             in speedy cars   
    a Dr. Sax’s shadow shadowing him
      like a shroudy cloud over the landscape   
       Song of the Open Road sung drunken
               with Whitman and Jack London and Thomas Wolfe
            still echoing through
                            a Nineteen Thirties America   
                            A Nineteen Forties America   
                            an America now long gone
               except in broken down dusty old
                                              Greyhound Bus stations
                   in small lost towns
       Ti-Jean’s vision of America
                seen from a moving car window
                      the same as Wolfe’s lonely
                                                sweeping vision
                  glimpsed from a coach-train long ago
       (‘And thus did he see first the dark land’)   
And so Jack
                in an angel midnight bar
   somewhere West of Middle America
          where one drunk madonna
                        (shades of one on a Merrimac corner)   
      makes him a gesture with her eyes
                                                       a blue gesture   
          and Ti-Jean answers
                                       only with his eyes   
And the night goes on with them
       And the light comes up on them
                      making love in a parking lot
— Lawrence Ferlinghetti
(photo by Harry Redl, San Francisco 1958)