(SOUNDBITE OF SONNY ROLLINS' "ST. THOMAS")
SACHA PFEIFFER, HOST:
Today we remember the jazz great Sonny Rollins.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONNY ROLLINS' "ST. THOMAS")
PFEIFFER: He died yesterday at his home in Woodstock, New York. He was 95 years old. That made him one of the last of his generation of jazz giants. In fact, he was known as the saxophone colossus. Let's bring in Nate Chinen from member station WRTI with more. Hi, Nate.
NATE CHINEN, BYLINE: Hi.
PFEIFFER: Nate, Sonny Rollins was considered one of the greatest improvisers in jazz. Give us more of an understanding of why he earned that reputation.
CHINEN: You know, the first thing to focus on is his sound. He played the tenor saxophone with so much personality. He had this big tone that could feel really brusque with, you know, the coarse grain that makes you think of an old oak cabinet, but also always spry and surprising in his movements.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONNY ROLLINS' "THREE LITTLE WORDS")
CHINEN: He was so resourceful as an improviser that he could weave a coherent solo with a narrative arc and a composerly (ph) use of motifs basically in real time. And for the entirety of his career, Rollins kept an absolute commitment to spontaneity, which is a lot harder than it sounds.
PFEIFFER: Although, you know, jazz is so known for spontaneity. Say a little bit more about his commitment to it and why that was tough sometimes.
CHINEN: You know, improvisers often have their sort of little book of patterns or favorite devices, and he did his best to avoid those. It's interesting. That sometimes, in concert, could play out as a struggle for inspiration. You know, he really would not go for the easy route. But then when that bolt of inspiration did strike, it was all the more powerful.
PFEIFFER: One of the things Sonny Rollins was famous for is practicing for many hours every day on the Williamsburg Bridge in New York City, at least for a period of his career. How did that factor into his stature?
CHINEN: It became a part of his legend because these sabbaticals, as Rollins called them, demonstrated just how much he cared about pursuing excellence on his own terms. So think about this. In 1959, as he drops off the scene, it's precisely the moment when he had finally made it to the front of the pack among jazz musicians, and there was no guarantee he would get back there. He was really driven by this feeling that he was not giving it as much as he needed to give it, you know? And this monastic dedication he had, it was extraordinary, and it really was not a pose.
PFEIFFER: What does his death mean for jazz?
CHINEN: Obviously, the entire jazz world is in mourning right now and not just for the incredible artists that we've lost. You know, Sonny Rollins outlived so many of his peers, including John Coltrane and Miles Davis and Max Roach. I think of him as a great unchanging constant, almost like a constellation that you might use for navigation.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONNY ROLLINS' "SKYLARK")
CHINEN: But late in life, Sonny Rollins also became something like a sage, sharing thoughts and insights that always put things into a broader spiritual perspective. He believed in nonviolence. He believed in the golden rule. He also believed that jazz could be a positive force, one that generations after him will continue to carry forward.
PFEIFFER: That's Nate Chinen. He's the editorial director of WRTI in Philadelphia. Thanks, Nate.
CHINEN: Thank you, Sacha.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONNY ROLLINS' "SKYLARK") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.