What a beautiful tribute. When I was a young rock critic, I achieved all of my goals early, while still in college (Rolling Stone, Creem, Village Voice in its heyday). But I really wanted to be, and became, a "newspaperman," and lived that dream too. My paper was part of the LA Times once-benign ownership, and when I left after 20 years (through buyout), it took almost as long to recover my moorings, because, like your friend Scott, I was never suited for anything better than I was newspapers.
Hello Ted, I've just read your heartfelt and touching tribute to your friend Scott.
As a member of Badfinger in the 70's, this situation resonates with me on a deep level. My bandmates, Peter Ham and then Tommy Evans (writers' of Nilsson's 'Without You'), both commited suicide after the business of Music failed them. It's something of a curse if you are a passionate creative, but circumstances appear to dictate that you won't be able to continue. As with Scott, my friends also the lost their will and optimism and succumbed to that awful 'moment of madness.... I empathise with you..it never goes away.
My wife and I owned a bookstore in downtown Los Angeles from 2006-2011. Scott wrote about us a few times in "Los Angeles Times." When he found out I was a jazz fan, he and I had a great discussion about Lester Young when we met in 2006. It's sad that he's no longer with us.
I cannot wait to read this. I discovered Ted Gioia when I saw him cited in Timberg’s article series in Radio Silence years ago. Always wanted to ask if you knew him. Those articles set me on my course.
Scott sounds like somebody I would have really liked, if only because it's so rare to find even another Californian to chat about Kevin Starr with. It's abominable that somebody as important as him could be abandoned by the cultural institutions.
Lovely tribute. I began reading and quickly wondered if Scott was related to Bob Timberg of the Baltimore Sun. Small world that it, he is indeed I learned reading on. It figures -- I can clearly see a passion for subject matter, zest for life and depth of spirit I noticed when working with his dad -- one of the best journalists I've ever encountered as a press secretary. I'm glad I read this piece, and now intend to read Leaving Los Angeles. Thanks for your post.
I knew him mostly through Facebook, and I ran into him in the streets of Pasadena. I was on my way for a dental appointment, and he was heading toward Vromans Bookstore. I wished I went with him to the bookstore. On a side note, Scott and I shared an appreciation for the British band Suede. Wonderful introduction.
I will buy his book immediately. Ironically just the other day I published a poem on this same subject. I, for some seriously unconscious reason, thought I was overstating a personal problem.
After your wonderful introduction, Timberg's book starts with just a great story that begins with some comments about a photo of Art Pepper and his sax ... I'll steal his own beautiful, sad words. "ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL PHOTOGRAPHS in the annals of jazz depicts the charismatic alto saxophonist Art Pepper trudging up a long, lonely hill near his house in Echo Park, cradling his saxophone under his arm and holding a lit cigarette. Pepper’s saxophone playing was a thing of beauty, but it was a delicate and precarious beauty, scarred with the pain that would at times send the man himself into tailspins of drugs and thievery. Looking back, four decades later, the picture almost has the quality of prophecy: Pepper, for all his early success and his many heartbreaking solos, never really reached the top of that hill, never stopped laboring, Sisyphus-like, to outrun his own inner demons. "
Your writing is always uplifting, and Scott was a genius who never lost his connection with people and always had his feet on the ground (until the end).
Thanks Ted for this moving recollection of your much loved friend, Scott. It can be hard to sense the fragility of people behind their passions and in Scott's case the love of the arts. It's taken me 20 minutes just to edit these few words to get across the meaning of what I feel. Without people like Scott, what word do we have....
What a beautiful tribute. When I was a young rock critic, I achieved all of my goals early, while still in college (Rolling Stone, Creem, Village Voice in its heyday). But I really wanted to be, and became, a "newspaperman," and lived that dream too. My paper was part of the LA Times once-benign ownership, and when I left after 20 years (through buyout), it took almost as long to recover my moorings, because, like your friend Scott, I was never suited for anything better than I was newspapers.
Hello Ted, I've just read your heartfelt and touching tribute to your friend Scott.
As a member of Badfinger in the 70's, this situation resonates with me on a deep level. My bandmates, Peter Ham and then Tommy Evans (writers' of Nilsson's 'Without You'), both commited suicide after the business of Music failed them. It's something of a curse if you are a passionate creative, but circumstances appear to dictate that you won't be able to continue. As with Scott, my friends also the lost their will and optimism and succumbed to that awful 'moment of madness.... I empathise with you..it never goes away.
What a great tribute!
My wife and I owned a bookstore in downtown Los Angeles from 2006-2011. Scott wrote about us a few times in "Los Angeles Times." When he found out I was a jazz fan, he and I had a great discussion about Lester Young when we met in 2006. It's sad that he's no longer with us.
(His 2006 article about us can be found here - https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2006-dec-18-et-metropolis18-story.html)
What a beautiful tribute to your immensely talented dear friend.
The depth of your loss is searing.
Thank you for sharing a bit of his essence, something that clearly cannot be captured by words.
A wonderful tribute but sad. Confusing for those left behind.
As I read it I began to think of Don Mclean's tribute song to Vincent Van Gough.
Some of us a built with thick skin but unfortunately beauty is sometimes a fragile thing.
I cannot wait to read this. I discovered Ted Gioia when I saw him cited in Timberg’s article series in Radio Silence years ago. Always wanted to ask if you knew him. Those articles set me on my course.
To read such a piece as this, is to feel the loss of someone I'd never heard of as that of a dear friend.
This is beautiful.
I'm sorry for your loss, and thank you for sharing. Truly, his legacy lives and serves the world.
Scott sounds like somebody I would have really liked, if only because it's so rare to find even another Californian to chat about Kevin Starr with. It's abominable that somebody as important as him could be abandoned by the cultural institutions.
Lovely tribute. I began reading and quickly wondered if Scott was related to Bob Timberg of the Baltimore Sun. Small world that it, he is indeed I learned reading on. It figures -- I can clearly see a passion for subject matter, zest for life and depth of spirit I noticed when working with his dad -- one of the best journalists I've ever encountered as a press secretary. I'm glad I read this piece, and now intend to read Leaving Los Angeles. Thanks for your post.
I knew him mostly through Facebook, and I ran into him in the streets of Pasadena. I was on my way for a dental appointment, and he was heading toward Vromans Bookstore. I wished I went with him to the bookstore. On a side note, Scott and I shared an appreciation for the British band Suede. Wonderful introduction.
Thank you for this, Ted.
I will buy his book immediately. Ironically just the other day I published a poem on this same subject. I, for some seriously unconscious reason, thought I was overstating a personal problem.
After your wonderful introduction, Timberg's book starts with just a great story that begins with some comments about a photo of Art Pepper and his sax ... I'll steal his own beautiful, sad words. "ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL PHOTOGRAPHS in the annals of jazz depicts the charismatic alto saxophonist Art Pepper trudging up a long, lonely hill near his house in Echo Park, cradling his saxophone under his arm and holding a lit cigarette. Pepper’s saxophone playing was a thing of beauty, but it was a delicate and precarious beauty, scarred with the pain that would at times send the man himself into tailspins of drugs and thievery. Looking back, four decades later, the picture almost has the quality of prophecy: Pepper, for all his early success and his many heartbreaking solos, never really reached the top of that hill, never stopped laboring, Sisyphus-like, to outrun his own inner demons. "
What a beautiful, kind, thoughtful piece. Thank you.
Your writing is always uplifting, and Scott was a genius who never lost his connection with people and always had his feet on the ground (until the end).
Thanks Ted for this moving recollection of your much loved friend, Scott. It can be hard to sense the fragility of people behind their passions and in Scott's case the love of the arts. It's taken me 20 minutes just to edit these few words to get across the meaning of what I feel. Without people like Scott, what word do we have....