Yesterday (Friday, since it's after just after midnight on Saturday night, this post will say Sunday) I took and passed my music therapy recertification exam. We (music therapy types) are given the choice of accumulating continuing education units or taking a recertification exam every 5 years. I am (definitely) in favor of learning, but taking the exam seems to make more sense given my (at times) impossible schedule. During the exam, however, I was confronted with something I knew, but sometimes manage not to think about; in recent years, it seems even more difficult (it was never really easy) to physically sit still. Also, the already short "attention span" appears to be shrinking. Back when I was in school breezing through a test was (perhaps with selective memory here) the norm. I remember one test in high school where (I was sleepy) I feel asleep while taking a test (with my head down on the desk). I don't know how long I was asleep, but I remember that the 10 minute bell woke me up. I completed the test and was still the first to hand it in. Yesterday, however, a test in which I'm given 3 hours to complete took me...(just short of)...3 hours (during which time I lost track of how many times I had to stand up). Thereafter I needed food, coffee, and a place to walk. But I passed. Next time you see me play piano and notice that I can't sit still you'll know you've found the right Joe Holt (there are other Joe Holts, but that's another story).

Christmas finally hit me last night when I pulled Marian McPartland’s Piano Jazz Christmas show up to listen to on-line. That was the point at which, perhaps, I became "still" enough to connect with it all. Later I watched "A Charlie Brown Christmas" my family. Traditions die hard. I couldn't help myself but then to pick up my book: "The Making of A Charlie Brown Christmas", and start to reading it again. Charles Schultz is my hero. It was nice also yesterday, to sit down at the piano in my own home and play Christmas carols (and things). Turmoil is all around (us). I am at peace (never perfectly so, but with an undercurrent of trust and calm). Family is cool. Merry Christmas (Charlie Brown)!

Keith Jarrett Trio - Autumn Leaves

Since I've been talking about Keith Jarrett, I thought I'd post this, to share with you what I've enjoyed today. Even if you don't "like" it, I hope that you can appreciate it. Both are true for me. Sense the joy. Share the joy. Gary Peacock: bass. Jack DeJohnette: drums.

Peter Howell (the entertainment editor for the Easton Star Democrat, who compared me to Rolwf the Dog), is back (and so is Rowlf)! He has provided the first official review of "Do You Hear What I Hear?"







Thanks, Pete!

The other night I played a retirement community concert with Joe and Paul Midiri, and Jim Lawlor. In addition to being the Midiri Brother's drummer, Jimmy was also the comic actor on my children's/family CD: "He's Steppin' Out". Since that recording, Brian Whitaker (my next store neighbor, whose comedy is often not an act) has assumed the role for the live performances. It was illustrated to me that night that the two may be related. Joe (Midiri) and I played a contemplative duet on "Greensleeves" that went over very well. After the gig, Jimmy said to Joe and I: "That was nice, that duet you played, what's it called; "Who's Child is This?"?" At that point, the conversation was disrupted.

Back when I was 17 or so (mid-late 1970's) my trumpet (no comments please) teacher asked me if I had ever heard Art Tatum. When I responded no, he sternly "advised" me that if I had any thought of being a jazz pianist, I had to deal with Art Tatum. Dutifully I proceeded to the record store and bought the LP; "Piano Starts Here", that included his first (solo) professional recordings from 1933. After I picked my jaw up off of the floor, I concluded that my whole musical pursuit was now pointless, and I purposed not to play the piano anymore. It lasted a week (my response was not unique, among others, Oscar Peterson claimed not to have played for a month after his initial encounter). I often state that artistic growth and spiritual growth (as I understand it) are the same in essence; including the increasing realization of how "small" we are in relation to that which we have become aware. This encounter was one of those growth opportunities. Since that event, I have settled in, increasingly aware of great players, and where I fit in (in terms of my own contribution). Working in my little "corner of the room", I can deal with (and, most importantly, learn from) those who are, were, and will remain, way "beyond" me. Fast forward to now. It has happened again, but this time (hopefully standing in a more mature place), I am humbled not to shrug, or to despair or disinterest, but to wonder. It's not that I've never heard Keith Jarrett before, but perhaps that I am now ready to. I watch other (great) players perform now, and sometimes see a "see what I can do" display. With KJ it is a connection, and never a contrivance. And, more so than any time previous, the fact that I don't (academically) understand much of it, doesn't stop me from "getting" it. "Concepts create idols. Only wonder understands" - Gregory of Nyssa

A lot of reflection this morning (nothing new, really). It took a long time, but I've developed this new paragraph to potentially add to my bio/press release. In the continuing saga of attempting to understand what I do, and then struggling to somehow try to (verbally) convey it, I now offer:

"Known for his expressive, and often animated performances, Joe's unique approach to solo jazz piano reaches out to the listener. Joe is grounded in the traditional influences (e.g.. Nat King Cole, Erroll Garner, Fats Waller, Oscar Peterson), and has built upon this foundation a diverse and relevant presentation. When performing, Joe experiences the spiritual connections that music makes. His audiences, though it may be stated in other terms, get this as well; "expressive playing"..."a joy to behold"..."boundless and infectious"..."Joe touches lives wherever he goes."