Thursday, November 1, 2018


Carol Sloane
October 30, 2018

I am resuming my writing exercises which were interrupted by a series of prolonged, annoying events, producing an unavoidable and decidedly unwelcome breach in the proceedings.  After hours of conversations with the tech-articulate, I believe equilibrium has been restored. Yet again. 

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Table of Contents

The Rant

Duke University Residency
Snow Creams
Steve Cosentino
The Boston Red Sox
Birdland Appearance

I have been publishing this Blog (sporadically, I admit) since 2007, scrupulously avoiding political comment of any stripe.  However, the current occupant of the White House has forced my hand. 

Possibly you feel as I do: dismayed, appalled, disgusted, dangled precipitously at the end of an extremely frayed tether.  

I think what exasperate me most are not the outrageous assertions, blatant lies, narcissism, fiery rhetoric igniting the parched tinder of prejudice, or even that lousy looking hair. Uh-uh.

What truly frightens me is the vociferous outpouring of hatred and intolerance which he encourages, even deliberately inflames, sentiments which frustrate, sadden and embarrass me as an American.

I wish I possessed the magic formula to transform the Democratic Party into a vibrant majority in Congress, but I don't sense, let alone hear, a distinctly clear voice of leadership and sanity around which we, The Perpetually Jangled*, might whole-heartedly rally.  (Thank you President Obama for emerging from the shadows recently, providing a measure of hope. Please stick around, will you?)  

I sometimes get the impression the Democrats are rudderless, reluctantly prepared to continue up-hill battles with less than a majority in Congress until 2020 because there will be no alternative.  I believe a gain of even a few seats in both Houses will be beneficial,  but I also believe we will all be forced to face another two years of Trump-induced misery and trepidation. Please God I'm proven wrong. 

All I know is that I long for a restoration of civility, intelligence and clear reasoning which should be the guiding principles of the next POTUS, whoever she may be.  

This will not become a reality any time soon, so please cast a vote on Nov. 6th against this despicable man and all he stands for by electing educated, sensible, mature, candidates to fill those important Congressional seats.  

(That "educated, sensible, mature candidates" riff rather emphatically eliminates every Republican running, if you ask me. I just don't trust any one of them.  Not afraid to say it either).

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Snow Cream anyone?

On my most recent out-of-town trip, I spent a thoroughly stimulating week in Durham, NC participating in a Visiting Artist Residency program at Duke University's beautiful campus.  I conducted several Master Classes, presented a mini lecture/Q&A on "The Art of Jazz Singing", and joined the fine young members of the Duke Jazz Ensemble in a concert conducted by Professor John Brown. 

I loved every minute of the week: The vocal students were gifted, open to gentle criticism, and just plain fun to be with. Prof. Brown (who very closely resembles Oscar Peterson in the 1960's) couldn't have been more accommodating and kind.  My old friend Stephen Barefoot was my exceptionally gracious host at his beautiful home with its huge garden filled with flowers and bird feeders. All of my activities on campus were video-taped for "Sloane, The Documentary". Visit this site for updates.

Yeah. Okay.  But what about those Snow Creams?

Oh yes.  Sorry.  

A fascinating writer named Georgann Eubanks gave me a copy of her lovely book "The Month of Their Ripening" (pictured above) which describes, among other delights, foods related to their availability at peak freshness throughout the year in North Carolina. January, the first chapter, deals charmingly with the ingredients and preparations for Snow Cream, a confection hitherto unknown to me but cherished by Carolinians. I will live to taste the treat.  It's a wonderful book.

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In 2017, I was introduced to an artist whose talent was so immediately evident, I became instantly devoted.  His name is Steven Cosentino, and you can see his work here. City scapes, sea shores, portraits and still life - all of his art is filled with the pulse of life, vibrant, whimsical, profound and moving.  I am pleased to introduce you to him today.

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End Notes

Need I say how proud I am
to boast of my life-long
allegiance to the
Boston Red Sox
Congratulations, Gentlemen!

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315 West 44th
New York

November 21-24

7 PM

Carol Sloane
Mike Renzi
Jay Leonhart

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You are welcome to comment about any or all portions of this Post.  Write me at 
Or leave a comment below ...

*-Carol Sloane 
The PJ's CEO

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

August 3-5, 2018

I was treated to the exuberance
of the young and gifted who
were in residence at
The Eugene O'Neill Center
(see below for details) 

I look a little like E.T., I know,
but I wasn't the star of the show.
These singers were so much fun to hear!
Thanks once again to John McDaniel
and the entire staff.
You made me feel so young!

The Launchpad of American Theater, the O’Neill is the country’s preeminent organization dedicated to the development of new works and new voices for the stage.
Founded in 1964 by George C. White and named in honor of Eugene O’Neill, four-time Pulitzer Prize-winner and America’s only playwright to win the Nobel Prize in Literature, the O'Neill has launched some of the most important voices and works in American theater and has revolutionized the way new work is developed.

From its campus in Waterford, Connecticut, the O’Neill has been home to more than 1,000 new works for the stage and thousands more emerging artists. Writers, directors, puppeteers, singers, students, and audiences alike take their first steps in exploring, revising, and understanding their work and the potential of the theater they help create. All focus remains on the writer and script: Performers work with simply rendered sets and costumes, script in hand, revealing for the first time the magic of a new play or musical, puppetry piece, or cabaret act.

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Sloane (Center) & Friends
(L-R) Carol Fredette, Marilyn Maye, Sandy Stewart,
Daryl Sherman, Helen Merrill
Birdland, July 15, 2018

I was so pleased to sing for the audience at Birdland, and to see old and treasured friends at the end of the performance.

 I'm back for more November 21 to 24

With the wonderful Mike Renzi an Jay Leonhart

Come and share the music and the cranberry sauce with me!

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Someone in Argentina loves me!

"Jazz Is Also A Woman ..
Nothing More Sensual"

Fabricado por Marcelo E. Albala
Bajo Licencia Alldisc Brasil

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Is currently in production 
with a projected 2019 release date

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In 1959 I lived in New York, and a good friend was a booking agent who often invited me to accompany him to various clubs and other venues to check on some of the artists he represented.  On this occasion, we were seated in a small studio which contained a piano and no other instruments.  I recognized legendary jazz producer John Hammond in the control room.  A young woman arrived and sat at the small Steinway.  I was very struck by her amazing facial resemblance to the majestic gospel singer Mahalia Jackson.  The young girl sang a handful of standards with formidable strength, although in her interpretations of Gershwin and Berlin, she was unable to conceal her own gospel roots. Yes, she was of course Aretha Franklin, with John Hammond in the sound booth clearly assessing where and how to steer her recording career at Columbia.  Her first recording for the label was released in 1960 with the Ray Bryant Trio.  

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I have been dreadfully remiss, I know, but computer problems, which seemed almost insurmountable, caused me considerable stress.  For a time, even my very skilled tech man was bewildered too. But, time and tenacity prevailed, and I believe all systems are restored, along with my sanity. Remember how crazed Gloria Swanson looked as she made her way down those stairs?  That was me, ready for my close-up, tossing the PC out the window.  Probably wouldn't have caused a lot of damage since I live on the ground floor but, you know ... I was crazed.

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And finally tonight: 

Mr. Wonderful wanders in and out of my orbit at will, and I have accepted his "can't we be friends" request because he has made it clear there can never be an alternative.  He's a very special man, and I am reconciled to the relationship dictated by his rules and restrictions.  

It's nice to have another pal, of course ... but then again, he is a Yankee fan.