I am wistful when July approaches. My pensiveness, like a gossamer canopy, frequently takes me to a world where crystal clear tears flow unceasingly as I lament the absence of our youngest son, a musician, taken too early in life. I am not alone.
By David Noel Edwards Friday, Jun 29 Arts & Entertainment
As a teen studying classical piano one summer at Tanglewood, Harry Connick Jr. remembers having been frowned upon for playing jazz. Not anymore.