In a city with outstanding jazz musicians far out of proportion to its population, guitarist Kenny Poole was a standout. Today with the rest of Cincinnati's music lovers, we mourn his passing.
Rick Bird at the Cincinnati Post has admirably described Poole's artistry, so gentle readers should follow the link above to learn or be reminded of what it was like to hear Poole play. We will confine ourselves to a personal anecdote.
Poole was booked to play a free concert at the Pleasant Hill Library in College Hill at 7 p.m. on a weeknight in early summer. We, finding the price, time, location and content of the concert perfect for our SWNIDish needs and tastes, made it a point to attend. Poole played an hour-long set, unaccompanied, in a side-room of the library with about 20 people in attendance.
After about 45 minutes of playing jazz standards with impeccable elegance and gentle swing, Poole asked what time it was. We responded immediately with what we freely confess was a self-serving lie: "Five minutes after seven!" After the laughter (which we admit we deliberately provoked for the feeding of our ravenous ego), someone told the truth.
So the evening, which we wanted to go on forever, was near an end. Poole played two more songs, both requests. The last was the Basie standard "Shiny Stockings" (or "Corner Pocket," as it was known before words were added to the tune). Since the Count and his fifteen Kansas City men left the Savoy Ballroom, no one had swung that tune as finely as Poole did that evening all by himself.
If such things exist, it was a perfect moment, a too-brief hour of artistry that we will remember for a long time.
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