In Memoriam: Solomon Burke, 1940–2010
by Aaron Greenwald
"He is Solomon the resonator ... the golden voice of heart, wisdom, soul and experience. He's one of the architects of American music." —Tom Waits
In early February 2008, Duke Performances presented Solomon Burke, who died on Sunday, Oct. 10, in a double bill with the Dixie Hummingbirds. Solomon was reared singing gospel music in Philadelphia, and the Hummingbirds have long been ambassadors of that city's terrific church music scene. I sat backstage next to Solomon for the Hummingbirds' set, and he thanked me for the opportunity to see these old friends once more.
At that point in his career, Solomon's contract stipulated that the local promoter provide a throne. Height, width and depth for this piece of furniture were all, rest assured, specified. Solomon had played the Bull Durham Blues Festival four years before, and Lee Hawley in the Duke Scene Shop had built a throne to proper Solomon Burke specifications back then. We retrieved Solomon's seat from storage, and it was ready for King Solomon's arrival.
Solomon needed that throne because, at well over 400 pounds, he was incapable of supporting his own weight for the duration of a concert. (Solomon had, I later learned, spent several weeks over the years at the Duke Diet and Fitness Center.) In order to get him onstage, we turned off the lights. My colleague Paul Overton rolled Solomon onto the stage in a wheelchair. By the time the lights came up, he was in his throne, a gargantuan man in a red sequined suit.
Read the Full Essay @ The Independent
by Aaron Greenwald
"He is Solomon the resonator ... the golden voice of heart, wisdom, soul and experience. He's one of the architects of American music." —Tom Waits
In early February 2008, Duke Performances presented Solomon Burke, who died on Sunday, Oct. 10, in a double bill with the Dixie Hummingbirds. Solomon was reared singing gospel music in Philadelphia, and the Hummingbirds have long been ambassadors of that city's terrific church music scene. I sat backstage next to Solomon for the Hummingbirds' set, and he thanked me for the opportunity to see these old friends once more.
At that point in his career, Solomon's contract stipulated that the local promoter provide a throne. Height, width and depth for this piece of furniture were all, rest assured, specified. Solomon had played the Bull Durham Blues Festival four years before, and Lee Hawley in the Duke Scene Shop had built a throne to proper Solomon Burke specifications back then. We retrieved Solomon's seat from storage, and it was ready for King Solomon's arrival.
Solomon needed that throne because, at well over 400 pounds, he was incapable of supporting his own weight for the duration of a concert. (Solomon had, I later learned, spent several weeks over the years at the Duke Diet and Fitness Center.) In order to get him onstage, we turned off the lights. My colleague Paul Overton rolled Solomon onto the stage in a wheelchair. By the time the lights came up, he was in his throne, a gargantuan man in a red sequined suit.
Read the Full Essay @ The Independent
