This evening we are treated by an American jazz musician who has a home in Cuenca. She slips into the Jazz Society club with her instrument in its case, takes a seat and listens to the band, puts her horn together, finds a reed, and joins the boys for the concluding song of the first set. Musicians don’t have to speak English or Spanish or French or Swahili. Jazz has its own language, history, theory, super stars. If the girls in the audience a few tables away from me would have quit gossiping in the corner while she soloed, I could have heard the music even better. When music is on fire, you shouldn’t be doing things that put it out. Quality is quality is quality. Sue swung the whole room to her way of playing, and, being a gracious lady, was endearing. Lots of jazz musicians find better living and playing conditions outside the United States where jazz was created. Jazz has always been an equal opportunity music, but all audiences for it are not created equal.    
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