The Women’s Symposium

The flute girl wandered into the kitchen with the contented air of someone who has already been paid for the night’s work, however light it might be. “They may not need that,” she told a serving girl who was watering a second jug of wine. “They say they’re not drinking very much tonight.” The cook,…

Thelonius Monk, Alone in San Francisco: A Critical Review

Thelonious Monk does not simply play the piano--he lives through it.  The instrument is an extension of himself  Each note Monk plays is a cathartic expression of emotion--love, loss, pain, anguish--all conspiring with the virtuoso's grunts and mumbles to create a sound world unique to the mysterious jazz master, an auditory experience impossible to replicate…