Living through the trifecta of 2020: COVID-19, systemic racism, and the presidential election. Inside the Grief is a product of these strange times in which we are living. The pandemic has changed all aspects of our lives; family, education, and work; society has been upended by an invisible virus.
The murder of George Floyd was both violent and polarizing. His murder functioned as the tipping point where American society was forced to deal with the systemic racism entrenched in this country. From my perspective, it seemed that certain attitudes that had been ignored or buried in various societal groups exploded into the forefront of our national consciousness. For the positive, this convinced a large portion of our society of the necessity for change. However, there remains a large portion of our society who clings to lies and hate. This reality affects all of us whatever each personal view may be. The election of 2020 has been the most contested election I have experienced in my lifetime where the very core of democracy in our country has been called into question. The distress and distrust resulting from the behavior of government leaders has created an even deeper chasm between opposing sides in society, a chasm that is confusing and frightening. I find myself asking how we as a group of people will ever recover.
Back in May, after two months of not creating music in my community, I ventured to the backyard of a friend for a session, then to Riverside Park as well as other parks throughout the city. At first, it felt slightly uncomfortable, but it soon became the norm. In August, I reached out to the Soapbox Gallery, an art gallery in Brooklyn, where a release gig for a previous project, Blended Lineage, had been canceled due to the pandemic. I heard that they had started to present live streams, and I discussed with the proprietor, Jimmy Greenfield, the possibility of bringing in a trio-a group whose size he was comfortable hosting in his space. Initially, it felt strange doing a live stream performance. Four people in the audience (though I have had more than one gig with an audience of that size!), sparce audience feedback, and yet it was thrilling to be creating music with friends. After we had secured a date for the next month for which I wrote new material, we recorded this music shortly after the gig.
The first track is a fusion of two pieces bridged by a percussion solo. The first of the two is a blues and its name comes from a phrase my son used to say during his recovery from major brain surgery when his language center was being relocated to a healthy part of his brain. As he struggled to find words to communicate, the phrase What Does it Care? was used to convey what does it matter? I Spy is a melody with a suggestion of a tonal center. It is from a series of tunes I have written based on the Beatitudes. Like Shosti has a tango vibe and was written about 15 years ago. It is a nod to the Coltrane tune Like Sonny, which is based on something that Trane had heard Sonny Rollins play. However, in this case the melodic motif comes from one of Shostakovich’s string quartets. 389 is a medium tempo swinger whose title signifies the only number my afore mentioned son could remember immediately after his surgery. The title track, Inside the Grief, consists of two contrasting themes. The opening figure is in your face and punctuated with uncertain silences which contrasts with a second theme that floats freely over the bass and drums. Balm, with its swing and blues vibe, comes from the set of music based on the Beatitudes, and is a song composed for the hope of promised comfort and healing. The set closes with Vote! which was named by my father. He heard the tune on the live stream while it was untitled, and after the gig told me that he heard someone saying “vote, vote, vote, vote” while we played the tune’s opening. The election was on everyone’s mind in September and the title stuck.
The emphasis on my earlier recordings has been equally divided between the writing and the improvisation. But on this recording the focus is tilted toward the playing. This year has illustrated how vulnerable we are and how fragile life is; I hope that this vulnerability is conveyed in the music.
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