David Stone Martin, Artist

By far one of The Leopard's biggest influences is the remarkable illustrator David Stone Martin. Even if you don't know his name, you've probably seen his work on hundreds of album covers, most notably Billie Holiday's early LPs and and many other beautiful drawings and paintings created for jazz impresario Norman Granz's various record labels.

Martin's medium of choice was crowquill pen and ink, where he cultivated a rough, distinctive line, not wholly unlike his primary influence, the brilliant political artist Ben Shahn.

Martin's also created art for children's books and advertisements, but it was his jazz art that made te biggest impression on me. When I was given the opportunity to create covers for jazz bassist Christian McBride's LP covers, my mind went directly to Martin's wonderful work. 

Although I didn't want to directly emulate him, I tried to create a feeling similar to his.

I don't know if I ever got close to achieving it, but I'm was happy to even be able to try.

Al Hirschfeld

Several years ago when The Leopard worked at a large jazz organization in New York, I was in the position to occasionally commission art for marketing purposes. I took this opportunity to contact some of my creative heroes.
One of the first to come to mind was Al Hirschfeld. I grew up marveling at his amazing caricatures in The New York Times.
With his perfect, flowing line, He had a wonderful skill at capturing the essence of a subject. Yes, he could easily master a likeness, but more importantly he seemed to be able depict someone from the inside out and make you see things in them that you may not have realized. His eye was unique.

I met with him in the early 2000s at his lovely studio across the street from Central Park. His busy overflowing loft had drawings all over the walls from previous (mostly famous) guests. Scenes from parties and wonderful memories. Even though we were the only two people in his place, it seemed like the middle of a crowded café, brimming with fascinating folks in hushed conversation.

A vibrant, gregarious man, He told me many wonderful stories, the one I  remember most about how, as a poor artist trying to make his way in Paris in the early 1900s, he stood on the street trying to sell his little paintings.  A strange man came up to him and asked how much he needed put focus only on his work for a year and set aside being a merchant. He told him how much he thought it would take, and the man wrote a check for the amount and handed it to him. It was Charlie Chaplin.

He told me when he first came to New York from Europe as a very young man, the subway was just being started. And that in the last 30 years, driving around the city in his huge Cadillac, he never, ever had a problem finding a parking space.

The reason I came to see him that day was because I was commissioning him to do a drawing of my boss at the time, the jazz trumpeter Wynton Marsalis. We were working out the concept and the particulars.

He did create a beautiful drawing.

About a year later, Mr. Hirschfeld had passed away at the phenomenal age of 99. He was so alive in his manner that this still surprised everyone. I received a phone call a few months after his death from his lovely widow Louise, who called me at my office and told me she wanted to "apologize" on Al's behalf. I said, "Why? Whatever for"? With a soft sob, she said, "Al was never happy with he drawing. He was going to re-do it. But never got to it. He always regretted that."

Just goes to show you, only the good die young.

William Friedkin

After recently reading director William Friedkin's memoirs, The Friedkin Connection, The Leopard re-watched several of this intriguing directors' iconic films. The French Connection, The Exorcist, To Live and Die In LA, Cruising,  and his most recent, Killer Joe.
The overall sensibility that emerges is that Friedkin in the majority of his movies veers towards the dark side of human behavior. He seems comfortable portraying basics of human nature: desire, lust, and violence.

A somewhat forgotten film and a box office failure, one of The Leopard's favorites is the dark, rough-hewn Sorcerer, based on the book and film Wages of Fear.

The story of a motley crew of  criminals who merge in a South American country on and mission to transport nitroglycerin through a treacherous jungle, the film has an adventure - like quality as well as stirring realism. Propelled by a thumping score by the electronic group Tangerine Dream, pound for pound, it might be Friedkin's most fully realized endeavor.

Questlove

The best beach reading this Summer by far for The Leopard has been the new memoir by  Ahmir “?uestlove”  Thompson, drummer of the band The Roots, Mo’Meta Blues. Quest makes a game attempt to rethink the genre of the rock bio, resulting in a lively, fun read.

A music enthusiast of the highest order, the afroed' one has an engaging love of music of all kinds, sometimes bordering on obsession.  At the same time, there’s jubilance to his love of all things pop that makes this book so endearing.

Woody

When push comes to shove, and the Leopard is asked what my favorite movie is, the same one always seems to comes to mind: Woody Allen’s 2003 film Manhattan. There’s a satisfying mixture of comedy and drama that has simply never been equaled in my mind.

Woody’s ingenuity when seen objectively, is pretty astonishing. Though the great comedian/writer/director is capable of the odd clunker, the majority of his films are quite good and at his best, pictures Annie Hall, Hannah And His Sisters, Midnight In Paris are arguably among most enjoyable films ever made. 

Having just read a wonderful book of interviews, Woody Allen On Woody Allen, I’ve gained even more respect for Allen not just for his inventiveness but his tenacity (as of this writing he’s written and directed over 50 films – over one a year).

Every film he creates, even the weaker ones, uniformly are produced: beautifully acted, intelligently written and well shot. For me, the opening of a Woody Allen films no matter how frequent, is a small event. With The Woodman, you it will always be something worth the price of the ticket.

The Leopard recently saw Tatsumi, an animated biography/documentary about one of my inspirations, the great manga artist Yoshihiro Tatsumi. Directed by Eric Khoo, The basis of the film is the book A Drifting Life, about his fascinating career. It's a wonderful tribute to Tatsumi's art.
Tatsumi started out in children's manga, but was an early founder of gekiga style, which was alternative Japanese comics, often touching on adult themes of loneliness, depair and hopelessness, reflecting on then post war Japan.
The film not only animates A Drifting Life but also some of Tatsumi's best known stories, some of which are quite shocking in their violence and and especially sexual content.

Audiobookworm

Someone asked me recently what I was reading, and I started to throw out titles: This Is How You Lose Her by Junot Diaz; NW BY Zadie Smith; Untouchable by Randall Sullivan; Marvel Comics: The Untold Story by Sean Howe, etc.  Later, I thought about our conversation and I realized: I had lied. I had not actually read the last two volumes, I had listened to them.

Yep, The Leopard is a busy cat, so lugging heavy books around  is sometimes woefully inconvenient. Seeing how many hours a week I spend in transit, it makes pretty good sense, because you can drive or ride a subway or just walk down the street listening to the latest New York Times bestseller.
Now, so I don't sound like a commercial for Audible.com, here's the catch: it's not the same as actually reading a book by any stretch.

Unfortunately or fortunately, these books are read by trained actors who tend to put their own spin on the words. As of now, when I think of Humbert Humbert from Nabokov's Lolita, I hear Jeremy Iron's
criminally obsessed voice. In The Great Gatsby, Tim Robbins' slightly sarcastic interpretation of events; even Arnold Schwarzenegger's narcissistic book Total Recall is mostly read by the actor Stephen Lang in a gravely macho growl.

Vocal stylization can rob one of the complete experience a book can provide. Certain intonations and emphasis can change a books' intended mood. We hear the book as the actor hears it.

Still, the theatricality of having a book read to you can also be immensely reassuring. It can bring you back to the days when mom & dad read you your favorite board book before beddy-bye.