Thelonious Monk
Brilliant Corners

LA RECENSIONE

Of every musical form, the moment I prefer is that of particularity, meaning hearing a phrasing of sounds that surprise me. And "particularity" is exactly the right term to describe "Brilliant Corners," a splendid album of jazz but also a manifesto of artistic freedom. I'm not talking about purely free approaches or stubborn avant-garde: I'm simply speaking of jazz music in the "classic" sense of the term, but with entirely personal nuances. Monk's fingers on the piano draw simple and firm paths, yet at the same time deep and jarring. Monk's pianism is human, in constant search of something, living on intentionally imprecise sounds and silences. If one were to make a marine comparison, Monk is neither a calm sea nor storm waves; Monk is the placid ebb of the late afternoon, in all its magnetic beauty.
(Me)

"It's 3:44 in the night.... . Let's keep talking a bit about jazz.... . So.... . I thought of this album, it's called "Brilliant Corners," a splendid work by Thelonious Monk dating back to 1956. Different times people, I know!...... Many of you perhaps weren't even born yet.... . The tracks that compose it are quite complex, but despite this, listening to it is easy and natural. Like a good glass of red wine, oh yes! ... The musicians on the album are all greats... .. On Tenor sax we find my beloved Sonny Rollins- God bless him! accompanied by Ernie Henry on Alto sax.... . On bass, Oscar Pettiford and the "davisian" steel Paul Chambers alternate... .. On percussion perhaps the greatest talent ever, that monster Max Roach... . And on piano that enigma of Monk.... . The track is called "Pannonica," and I hope it will keep you company for the next few minutes, on this clear March night.... . Here it's always your Lester the Nightfly, wishing you a peaceful night flight... . and lighting another cigarette... . "
(Lester the Nightfly, dj)

"Would you play some of your weird chords for the class?"
"What do you mean by weird? They are perfectly logical chords..."
(Monk to a Columbia University teacher)

I don't know. I really don't know. I look out the window at the distant buildings, and they are always there, immobile for years. The top floors shine with the light of the early afternoon, and the lower floors support them silently. I still wonder if there is any sense whatsoever. Even further, the clouds are swimming peacefully, and the music accompanies them. It always has, after all... People walk distractedly through the streets, they seem fearful. Yet every so often someone slows down a bit, with hands still in pockets and face buried in a scarf. If you think about it, it's not that hard. Someone still stops to look at the Brilliant Corners.
(Still me... ...)