SCHLOMI COHEN

Tuesday, July 25th, 2001
Tel Aviv, ISRAEL
Tonight was the last concert in Israel for this tour. We did two sets at the Camelot Club. Schlomi Cohen was the guest artist... he's 24 and is a fabulous tenor saxophonist. He was sensitive and just perfect for the gig. I gave him two instructions before the gig... "No rehearsal (and i usually don't go to soundcheck since i have the soundman extraordinaire Jay Tenhove with me doing the sound), don't step on my vocal lines, and don't play too much." Goodnight Israel. On to France...

Monday, July 23rd, 2001
Tel Aviv, ISRAEL

FIRST DAY IN ISRAEL

Somehow we lost Ernie's passport in Valencia, Spain. This was a tiny tragedy as Ernie would be stuck in Spain until he obtained a new passport. We said goodbye to him at the Barcelona airport. we went on to Zurich and Israel and Ernie stayed all night at a hotel in Barcelona. Ernie thought to call Ramsey Lewis who called somebody who expedited Ernie through the ragged passport lines in Barcelona and Ernie made the gig in Israel last night. He's a soldier. We're staying in a hotel outside of Tel Aviv for security reasons. The concert, however, last night was at city hall Tel Aviv. This place reminds me slightly of a Paul Bowles novel. There's something nostalgic about it already.

Saturday, July 21st, 2001
Valencia, SPAIN

CLOSET IN VALENCIA

The Valencia concert was out of doors. It was a sweet, friendly crowd and the night air felt brisk and good. I'm suffering from a bit of jet lag. I'm playing with the Cuban rhythms a lot these days and tonight was no exception. I have no idea if I'm playing with them responsibly or irresponsibly but they are so much fun, I'm taking them on. And Ernie and Michael seem to be enjoying it as well. Oh my...the beginnings of tours are hard. Exciting and hard. They frighten me.

Friday, July 20th, 2001
Almunecar, SPAIN

CASTLE IN SPAIN

 
The night we arrived in Spain, we went to the outdoor pavillion to hear Eliane Elias with Marc Johnson. That was a treat. They both sounded wonderful, but my hero Marc Johnson was quietly sublime. Each time he took a solo, everything from the stars to the children playing in the background seemed to hush while he proceeded to create the frame of his solo and then fill it with the frame that is his initimable Marc Johnson signature. The next night we played the same stage. We played a set with fewer cheap tricks out of respect for what had gone there the night before.