Category Archives: Quote

Quote from “Possibilities” by Herbie Hancock, 2014

DCF 1.0This quote is from the autobiography of jazz musician and composer, Herbie Hancock , entitled “Possibilities”.

I’m onstage at a concert hall in Stockholm, Sweden, in the mid-1960’s playing piano with the Miles Davis Quintet. We’re on tour, and this show is really heating up.  The band is tight—we’re all in sync, all on the same wavelength.  The music is flowing, we’re connecting with the audience, and everything feels magical, like we’re weaving a spell.  

Tony Williams, the drumming prodigy who joined Miles as a teenager, is on fire.  Ron Carter’s fingers are flying up and down the neck of his bass, and Wayne Shorter’s saxophone is just screaming.  The five of us have become one entity, shifting and flowing with the music.  We’re playing one of Miles’s classics, “So What”, and as we hurtle toward Miles’s solo, it’s the peak of the evening; the whole audience is on the edge of their seats.

Miles starts playing, building up to his solo, and just as he’s about to really let loose, he takes a breath.  And right then I play a chord that is just so wrong.  I don’t even know where it came from —it’s the wrong chord, in the wrong place, and now it’s hanging out there like a piece of rotten fruit.  I think, ‘Oh, shit.’  It’s as if we’ve all been building this gorgeous house of sound, and I just accidentally put a match to it.

Miles pauses for a fraction of a second, and then he plays some notes that somehow, miraculously, make my chord sound right.  In that moment I believe my mouth actually fell open.  What kind of alchemy was this?  And then Miles just took off from there, unleashing a solo that took the song in a new direction.  The crowd went absolutely crazy.

I was in my early twenties and had already been with Miles for a couple of years by this time.  But he always was capable of surprising me, and that night, when he somehow turned my chord from a wrong to a right, he definitely did. In the dressing room after the show I asked Miles about it.  I felt a little sheepish, but Miles just winded at me, a hint of a smile on his chiseled face.  He didn’t say anything.  He didn’t have to.  Miles wasn’t one to talk a whole lot about things when he could show us something instead.

It took me years to fully understand what happened in that moment onstage.  As soon as I played that chord I judged it. In my mind it was the ‘wrong’ chord.  But Miles never judged it—he just heard it as a sound that had happened, and he instantly took it on as a challenge, a question of ‘How can I integrate that chord into everything else we’re doing?’  And because he didn’t judge it, he was able to run with it, to turn it into something amazing.  Miles trusted the band, and he trusted himself, and he always encouraged us to do the same.  This was just one of many lessons I learned from Miles.

This excerpt is representative of the tone and theme of Herbie Hancock’s book.   His story is one of great accomplishment in music and the development of an optimistic  personal philosophy influenced by Buddhism.  It was enjoyable and inspiring to read.


Quote from “Finnegans Wake”

Quote from Finnegans Wake

“For a nod to the nabir is better than wink to the wabsanti. Otherways wesways like that provost scoffing bedoueen the jebel and the jpysian sea.”

In my interpretation of these two sentences, they suggest the familiar aphorisms: “for a nod is as good as a wink,” meaning; a subtle innuendo is enough for a person to understand who is looking for something specific, e.g. illegal,  and “between the devil and the deep blue sea” meaning; between two comparable evils.  Decoding the Joycean words per would be as follows: “nabir”=nadir (also neighbor), “wabsabti”=wormwood or absinthe+absent+zenith (or wabi=infected in Arabic+santi=saint in Italian), “Otherways”=otherwise, “wesways”=weswas (Arabic for whisperer which is an epithet of the devil)+we sway/he sways), “provost”=head of a school, “bedoueen”=Arab of the desert,”jebel”=hill in northern Africa, “jpysian”=Egyptian+gypsies. Putting it all together it is difficult for me to arrive at all but the fuzziest notion of what it is about, but it did strike me as humorous.

If you look up the above quote in “Joyce’s Finnegans Wake: The Curse of the Kabbalah”, by John P. Anderson, (and available online),
you will find a completely different take on the passage, with others most likely possible.  The obscurity of these two sentences is on par for the rest of the 628 pages and demonstrates both the problem in reading this book and the charm in it:  it is sufficiently obscure to resist a complete understanding of or consensus on its meaning.

Bill Sargeant

Quote from “The Song of the Lark” by Willa Cather

Quote from “The Song of the Lark” by Willa Cather

“One morning, as she was standing upright in the pool, splashing water between her shoulder-blades with a big sponge, something flashed through her mind that made her draw herself up and stand still until the water had quite dried upon her flushed skin. The stream and the broken pottery: what was any art but an effort to make a sheath, a mould in which to imprison for a moment the shining, elusive element which is life itself—life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose?  The Indian women had held it in their jars.  In the sculpture she had seen in the Art Institute, it had been caught in a flash of arrested motion.  In singing, one made a vessel of one’s throat and nostrils and held it on one’s breath, caught the stream in a scale of natural intervals.”

The Song of the Lark is a coming of age story, titled after a painting, and about a country girl who becomes an opera singer in the early 20th century.  Along the way she has the epiphany quoted above while camping in some cliff dwellings in Arizona.  It serves as one of the turning points in her pathway to artistic maturity.  The Song of the Lark was interesting to me from the thematic standpoint of musical and artistic development, innate talent vs. hard work, pretensions vs. genuineness, and the sacrifice required to succeed.  In the end she is able to break through her previous artistic limits and realize her vocal potential in a performance at the Met. Her former teacher sums it up: “‘Her secret?  It is every artist’s secret’—he waved his hand—‘passion.  That is all.  It is an open secret, and perfectly safe.  Like heroism, it is inimitable in cheap materials.'”

Season of The Witch

Season of The Witch by David Talbot page 90

“The 1960s was essentially a cultural dialogue between San Francisco and London.  The music, art, fashions, comics, drug experimentation, sexual innovation–it was all driven by the creative interplay between the two cities (with some heavy assistance from Detroit, in the music department).”

Quote from “East of Eden” page 4

“Once, fifty miles down the valley, my father bored a well.  The drill came up first with topsoil and then with gravel and then with white sea sand full of shells and even pieces of whalebone.  There were twenty feet of sand and then black earth again, and even a piece of redwood, that imperishable wood that does not rot.  Before the inland sea the valley must have been a forest.  And those things had happened right under our feet.  And it seemed to me sometimes at night that I could feel both the sea and the redwood forest before it.”