THE NOTEBOOKS OF SONNY ROLLINS

A welcome peek into the mind of the great jazz musician.

Reese, author of Blue Notes: Jazz, Literature and Loneliness, delves into the tenor saxophonist’s substantial archives in the New York Public Library, unearthing these fascinating notebooks. Divided into four chronological sections covering nearly 50 years, they capture how Rollins’ thinking about a wide range of subjects evolved. With entries starting in 1959, after two incarcerations, kicking his heroin addiction, and the beginning of his years-long practice sessions on the Williamsburg Bridge, these slight, diary-like bits and pieces reveal an incredibly curious and philosophical musician—“What I am is jazz phrasing”—with a strong work ethic. He’s very concerned with physical and breathing exercises, his health, practicing fingering and other technical aspects involved in playing the sax, his “proclivity for impatience,” his belief that “jazz is a free planet where everything is happiness and love,” and a passion for lists. “I must try to desist from lusting after women,” he adds. All of these ideas are in service of making him a better person and musician. Rollins sees himself in harmony with the music, and the sax “can achieve any color within the orchestra.” The entries seem well thought out, as if he hoped they would eventually be read by others, especially music students. He occasionally brings up social matters: “‘Race’ is synonymous to color! I am of the gold race.” On jazz’s “essence,” creative improvisation, he writes, “This then is man in his finest hour—portraying nature.” Rollins is devoted to yoga and avoids eating bitter candy, which affects his breathing. He consistently praises his instrument—“It is yesterday, today, and tomorrow all in one form—the almighty saxophone”—and he bemoans the “wasteful exploitation of energy resources.” The last entry, from 2010: “No matter how you feel, get up, dress up, and show up.”

Heady musical and philosophical stuff.