The Arts Quad becomes a stage
Partygoers traversing the Arts Quad on their way back to their dorms on the night of Saturday, Sept 6 were greeted by a display of auricular admirability. No, it wasn’t construction, a coyote, or the statues of Ezra Cornell and A. D. White–it was the dulcet tones of the tenor saxophone.
In the dead of night and under the light of a (nearly) full moon, the Arts Quad, enveloped in fog, was treated to a very special performance. An instrumentalist, perched on top of the accessible portion of the roof of Olin Library, had been playing for several hours.
Thomas Rossman ‘29 (pictured right) said of the event, “I don’t know if he’s performing or practicing… it’s so foggy.” How a lack of fog would assist him in distinguishing between the two we leave as an exercise for the reader. (Sorry!) But Rossman believed that “he knows what he’s doing.”
And he certainly seemed to be right. Clean runs, accomplished licks, and all-around instrumental excellence characterized the performance, or practice session, or whatever it was.
The fog began to intensify. Goldwin Smith Hall looked even more like a foreboding Greek temple than usual, and this time it wasn’t because of an impending prelim. Meanwhile, McGraw Tower shone like a lighthouse, as if to warn incoming students of the rocky shores of campus life. At the moment, however, students were approaching it like moths moving towards a flame. The tower, however, wasn’t what they were drawn to.
The saxophonist began to attract attention. Another student after emerging from the Slope said, “I was super shocked…” He then expressed his feelings about the eeriness of the whole thing, with “the fog” only adding to the chilling atmosphere.
A small crowd started to form, cheering the instrumentalist on.
The saxophonist, however, was not some man of mystery, larger than life. He was, in fact, open to being interviewed.
The instrumentalist of intrigue said that he had started around 11:30 PM. He was in fact practicing, not performing, but Lincoln Hall, the music building on Cornell’s campus, closes on Saturdays at 5:00 PM, so there was no better place for him to practice at the time. A member of one of the many music ensembles at Cornell, the player is an accomplished musician. Concerning his main jazz influences, these are (of course) Coltrane, the saxophonist Chris Potter, Michael Brecker, and Julian Edwin “Cannonball” Adderley. Walking away, one could almost hear the ‘Trane’s horn sounding through the saxophonist’s.
As people left the scene, they were well-wished by a wise, majestic voice coming from a tree’s boughs. “Get home safe,” said what to all appearances was a benevolent tree spirit. Of course, it was actually two people sitting up in the branches. (The Review did not manage to interview either the tree or the sitters.) One could observe two partygoers walking back to their dorms and shouting in surprise at the unexpected message. Surely the two branch-borne did not expect to be upstaged that night by a mellifluous melodist.
Claudia Marino ‘27 said of the night’s events that “it just doesn’t get more Cornell than this, does it?” The Cornell Review editorial staff would, albeit reluctantly, be forced to concur.
