Thelonious Sphere Monk stepped on my terrace as if going out to the stage. Everything is here: his beret, his attitude and his bop glasses. The misbelief mixed with the intoxicating smoke, as his steps gradually transformed into a slow dance. Just as he would leave the piano to see and hear his band better and dance to the solo just being performed by John Coltrane. Or Miles Davis. Or Sonny Rollins. Miles never felt comfortable at these moments.
But Coltrane did. He enjoyed and learned from Monk. I quote these words as a testimony: “Working with Monk has brought me closer to a music architect of highest rank. I felt that I was learning in every possible way next to him – with my senses, theoretically, technically. I would talk to Monk about music problems, and he would only sit at the piano and show me the answers by playing them. I could watch him play and get the answers to the things that I wanted to know. I also had the chance to witness so many things that I never even knew existed.”
It is possible that he would sit at the piano and play what followed, but I have no piano. There is nothing else but lie down in the hammock and take over this night. He does not hesitate. Thelonious Monk is the host of the night at my terrace. Let him manage the meditations and finish what has started with the turns of his “Underground” album. And the numbers that I have prepared.