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Nat Hentoff has told a story about Thelonious Monk. This happened in the 1950s in Monk's apartment in the San Juan Hill section of New York's West Side, near what is now Lincoln Center. The most imposing presence in the small quarters (after Monk) was a Steinway baby grand. Nellie, Monk's wife, noted that the instrument "takes up most of the living-room part of the kitchen."
That day Monk, for a while, was more talkative than usual. At other times his silences could last an hour or two or longer. A brilliant young saxophonist came rushing in during one of the silences and said to Monk with great delight, "I got in! I got in! I'm going to Julliard!"
After about ten minutes, Monk looked at the still radiant young player and said, "Well, I hope you don't lose it there."
Who was the saxophonist and what was the "it" that Monk was referring to?
The saxophonist was Gigi Gryce. "It" was the most important thing in jazz: the sound of yourself. A way of moving and shaping music so that if anybody tuned on the radio in the middle of a performance, he'd know it was you. Could that be taught in a class?