The Regina Carter Experience

The show last night at the Regattabar in The Charles Hotel was wonderful.  I love her music, you might, too.  She coaxes joy from what I think of as fundamentally a sad instrument that invokes flight and loss: Think of the fiddler on the roof, no kidding.  But in Regina’s hands, the moment comes alive and the result is transcendent.  She finds happiness, which I think is at the heart of jazz–think of Louis Armstrong or Miles or Ella performing during periods of profound hatred and the general barriers placed before them.  She creates a space of safety and assurance.

And our seats were good: Because it’s a very small jazz club and I go a few times a year and they must have seen we’re back tonight, we were at a front row table sipping scotch.  On the way home, I grabbed a slice of pepperoni @ Pinocchio’s, which makes fresh dough: I saw them doing it as I waited.  Preceded all by sauteed toro and eel at home.

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