Ridin' on a Blue Note

Sir Duke made the gray skies blue.

I know that because when I walked over to the library to hear the Richmond Youth Jazz Guild Orchestra play, it was a leaden sky above.

But once in the Gellman Room, with its enormous (what 15 foot) windows, I watched the clouds give way to blue the strains of Duke Ellington washed over me.

Walking in, I was greeted by Richmond Symphony pianist Russel Wilson with his ever-present camera.

"I was just thinking of you," he said kindly. "I always do when I drive by the Belvidere."

Now that's the way a person likes to be greeted.

A woman sitting near me noticed me all of a sudden and apologized for not having said hello when I arrived.

Clearly it was be-nice-to-Karen day.

The orchestra was missing a few members, not unexpected given the holidays, but I was plenty happy with drums, piano, upright bass, guitar, three saxophones, two trombones and three trumpets.

And the Gellman Room has those wonderfully high ceilings for the sound to move around in.

The program was all Ellington because the musicians are part of the Essentially Ellington competition and festival at Lincoln Center, dedicated to promoting the works of Sir Duke.

Not surprising since Wynton Marsalis is the director.

They began with "Sepia Panorama," a song that was Ellington's theme before "Take the A Train" won that role.

It was an exquisite experience sitting in that room with sunlight breaking through as dedicated young jazz musicians played.

From there, we heard "Echoes of Harlem," a song the director said was based on life experience.

"You'll hear it in the rhythms," he explained. 'There's the sound of the trains the band was always taking to gigs and you can hear it in the drums and horns."

And the train was there and I imagined it as the musicians tapped their feet or drummed their fingers, their faces intent and some not even needing to look at the music.

The jazz lesson continued as we learned that Ellington had been a talented painter who chose not to pursue that avenue because music's call was stronger.

"We're going to have a change in the program," we were told. "Looking around at the audience, I want to make sure we give everyone what they came for."

It required some music being handed out, but the band adjusted easily to the change.

"This piece is very picaresque," the director said. "He was painting with his music. It's a tough piece for the band to play."

If it was tough, I didn't hear the difficulty and the beauty of "Sunset and the Mockingbird" matched the now picture-perfect blue sky outside the library.

The band was introduced and we met Myra on trombone, who'd won a full scholarship to the prestigious Berklee School of Music.

Best hair went to trumpet player William, youngest props to trombonist Brandon (a mere twelve), and a mad skills nod to sax player Chris who writes the improv parts for the ensemble.

Oh, yes, and best dressed to guitarist Morgan for his stellar blue argyle cardigan.

But every single player was notable for their talent and intensity, especially given what their peers are likely doing musically.

The closer was "Ridin' on a Blue Note" and I closed my eyes to enjoy the last of the live Ellington I'd likely hear for a while.

I couldn't help but think about how lucky we are that there are kids willing to learn and practice this classic music so future generations can continue to be awed and inspired by it.

And I sure couldn't help appreciating what the swinging hour of music had done for my walk when I left the library.

Nothin' but bluer skies do I see.

From there, it was a hop (over Belvidere), skip (through Monroe Park) and a jump (onto a bar stool) to 821 Cafe for a late lunch.

The guy on the stool next to me recognized me and said hello, I passed on looking at a menu (don't need it) and within minutes was munching.

Besides music, Ellington was known for his prodigious eating and I was following in the footsteps of the master.

Sans any musical talent, of course.

Mid-bite I overheard a girl say, "I'm gonna start my own magazine called Modern Living dedicated to self-destructive behavior. I'm gonna spell "modern" different."

Now there's something to consider.

Maybe I can do a guest column and talk about the absolute pleasures of a free Ellington show that turned the sky blue one afternoon, followed by my favorite black bean nachos inhaled while punk music thrashes around me.

There's some modern living for you.

Nah, not nearly self-destructive enough.