Artists and songs, experiences, stories and poems. Paintings, sculptures and design. What’s the point? After all, these items do not fill our bellies, they do not offer a monetary value to most people (even most of the creators of these works – sadly). The song and the poem and the painting are all distractions from what really matters, right? I mean, when was the last time a song put a roof over your head in the rain or a hungry child was fed by the pop song on the radio. This is a question  I have a pretty clear answer to, as its one I have asked most my life and as we wade into the drudges of life’s work to ensure stability and sustainability of family and shelter and the echo of so many voices of so called ‘realistic’ people the framing of the real value of art and creativity is often in need of a defender. I get it. Firstly, most people do not participate in a daily exercise of making things which present themselves as art for their living, so it feels as if it could be deemed non-essential. Every year I have waded into the heavy surf of time, I have found out just how essential this art really is.

It was 2015 and I just heard the news, a dear friend and mentor Leon Russell had just passed away. Over the past several years I had visited with him many times as we were working on an idea of doing an essential Oklahoma album featuring artists from the state who had made an impact on the world. Leon was an iconic example of the power of music with reach from his songs as a studio musician throughout the late 50’s, 60’s and into the 70’s and his prominent career as a solo artist and band leader. He had been an active musician for over 50 years and toured the world many times over with many songs which were in the pantheon of pop-culture. He was a friend of mine. The last time I saw him we sat in my car after sharing a breakfast visit and he played me rough mixes of his latest album which was titled at the time “On A Distant Shore” (you can find that album on all digital platforms now). The album was intended to be a record of ‘standards’, songs written like the old song craftsman of the early 20th century which were recorded and re-recorded by countless artists. Only Leon would just set out to write songs with that level of ambition.

In the years leading up to this last visit with him, I had introduced my eldest son Ezra to his music and to him personally with a few special visits to spend time with Leon and hear stories of his road adventures and his curiosities. Through this season Ezra also developed a love for playing piano and his talent began to immerge as a player as well. I observed a passion being born and Leon was a key part of that. On this somber morning, I did not know what to say about the passing of this icon but I was headed home and I was not going to be able to delay much in sharing the devastating news.  At the front of our home at the time was a den on the front of the house next to a large window and on the back wall was our upright piano which Ezra loved to play. As I entered the front door, I could hear some familiar sounds, it was Ezra at the piano and he was playing a familiar tune.

Leon has written or recorded many famous songs, among them “Tight Rope” and “Masquerade”, “Stranger In A Strange Land” and “Delta Lady”, but the most famous one of his originals which he first made famous as an artist is the song “A Song For You”. Covered over 100 times and released by everyone from Willie Nelson to Ray Charles, this song is a true standard of the modern American pop song book. This was the song Ezra was playing when I walked into the house.

As I heard the song played, I began to feel a tear well up, it was stunning. It felt like Leon was in the room. There I was wrestling with the question of how to share the loss of a friend, a mentor, a hero with my son. I was going through my own personal struggle with this moment and balancing a million questions without answers and here was Leon in the room. I was struck by the resonant energy of this song and the recognition of something that had never occurred to me before. These songs we make more than any other art form, once it is made, it is alive. This song being translated and performed and interpreted by a 14-year-old boy is as alive and true as it was the first day its author performed it. Leon left us this song and so many others. This song was very much alive.

That day I was stuck in my own personal melancholy as I wrestled with guilt of our last meeting. You see, on the last day I had breakfast with Leon, we shared a meal and talked music and everything else under the sun, then he was excited to share with me the rough mixes of his latest album which I mentioned above, so we sat in my vehicle and played the entire record through. What a gift it was to sit with him and have the sense that he cared what I thought about his album. Leon was in town that day because he was performing at a venue in town doing a show that night so I picked him up from the venue but, I had decided not to go to the show. I had many things on my plate, of course, and many justifiable reasons why I didn’t make it out that specific night, but as it turns out, that would be the last time I would see Leon and only a few months later he passed away. I missed out on seeing him in person on stage one more time. I missed his last show in Tulsa and I felt guilty. This rough mix CD of the album remained in my car CD player for years after.

Standing in my living room, time stood still as I heard ‘A Song For You’ echoing through our halls. I walked over slowly to Ezra and the feeling of sadness moved to appreciation and a bit of calm. The music was there with us and it was beautiful. After a few minutes I leaned over to Ezra, told him how great the song sounded and then shared the terrible news. He was devastated, it was a great loss for two generations, but the music lived on.

As the preparation for Leon’s funeral and celebration of life came nearer, I was honored to be asked to perform a song during the ceremony. Over the past many years, we had become friends with his wife and extended family and close circle and I was of course sincerely honored to be asked to perform.

Of course, of all the songs to play there was really only one. The song which resonated through my home on that sad day of sharing his passing and had been the soundtrack for many lives, was now a warm way to say goodbye to an old friend and honor the power of this great connection he gave to the world. Walking on stage for the ceremony in Tulsa surrounded by his wife and family and some of the most devoted fans of Leon, the Leon Lifers perched around the dome of the Mabee Center where the gathering was hosted, I felt my knees rattle. I stepped on stage looking out at my own family, sat down on the bench and breathed a heavy sigh. “Leon, I need you now” I said to myself as I waded into the performance of the iconic song and my hands shook as I played each note.

Leon was with me that day, if nothing else in the notes he wrote and the resonance of the words penned. So, what’s the point after all, with this art thing. Music, and ideas and poems and paintings? Maybe the beautiful things are there like glue. They tie together the pieces, the parts that would otherwise fall away or seem disparate but when joined together they make a puzzle of our lives. Maybe those songs and stories and poems are a translator for the language of emotion and living that we are yet to have another more complete way of expressing. Maybe the resonance of these songs which carry on after the creator has passed on to be reimagined by bar bands and jazz quartets or global superstars or living room pianists is actually the purpose in and of itself. Each time that piece of art is made, shared, heard, felt and rediscovered, maybe that is a reminder that life is worth living. Could it be that beauty and the arts are there not as an addendum to the essentials of life but to the contrary, the rest of life is there to provide the foundational survival of these physical bodies allowing for us to share the experiences which the intangibles offer. These intangible pieces of love and connection through music and design are in fact a reminder of (If I can be so bold) love, or even that there is a divine architect that left some breadcrumbs to encourage us to keep on living, maybe. Architect, comic or sadist there’s no question in my mind that the songs we love and the art we get to touch, hear, feel and absorb is anything but non-essential. These echoes and pictures are, in my view, threads of our humanity. These breadcrumbs left on the long road through a relatively short period of time that we are on this planet that says, “we were here, we lived” and hopefully we lived well.

“when my life is over, remember when we were together, cause we’re alone now and I’m singing this song for you” – A Song For You

-TAYLOR H