The most amazing thing about the fact that this concert happened at all is that Sonny Rollins is 78 years old. He was born in 1930 and started his career as a jazz musician when he was a teenager in the 1940s in the Bronx. His age, as well as his name, was the draw, and the hall was full. There were many caucasians in the audience, and they greeted him with enthusiasm when he appeared on stage with his group.
It was an unusual group, a sextet with a tenor saxophone, a trombone, a guitar, a bass, drums and percussions.
Sonny Rollins is tall with still an abundance of hair, sparse on the top only, white and grey, standing on his head, and a big white beard, very unusual for a Jazz musician. He walks like an old man, with a rather unsteady gait, but as soon as he blows his horn, his age becomes irrelevant and he is like a lion with a white mane, roaring with the most extraordinary energy.
His dress also was unusual. He wore a red shirt falling over white pants. When he soloed, he would often walk back and forth on the stage, or suddenly stop and bend over to extract the last gasp of air from his lungs catching a high note, as all saxophonists do. His soloes were amazingly long and energetic. He would then turn his back to the audience and face his group, going from one musician to the next, prompting them to launch into their own improvisations, which he would accompany with just a few syncopated notes.
It was for me a special experience, for, as a teenager, I was always eagerly waiting for Sonny Rollins' next recording and would never miss his rare concerts in Paris. I was a little apprehensive before this concert, wondering how he would sound now.
It was hard to believe that this man was almost 80 years old. The concert lasted without an interruption for almost two hours. The audience was wild with enthusiasm and he got a standing ovation after playing an encore.
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