It is with great sorrow that today I face Austin
Peralta's death. For those who don't know him, Peralta was a prodigious piano
player, devoted to the music art form since a very young age. But most
important, he was a young man, that had the misfortune of watching his
existence fade away. I have never met him in person, yet, and just like many, I
have been presented to his enormous talent as a musician. It was through Youtube, about one year ago, once a
random user posted a video of his performance at the 2006 Tokyo Jazz Festival, at only age fifteen, alongside his own
trio. I immediately felt mesmerized by his talent. The method he developed, his
style, celebrated for uniting jazz with instrumental hip-hop and electronica,
to what became considered as the style
of such prodigious human being.
Now, it is with shame, with sadness, with
sorrow, that I must display, however, the reality about an artist that for the
past year became very dear to my heart: Austin Peralta, barely twenty two years
old, died Wednesday, living behind a sad world, now darker, due to his death.
While no official reports have yet surfaced, and no cause of death has yet been
stated, word of Peralta’s shocking death began spreading virally late
Wednesday, and my thoughts rely with his family and friends, for this was a
enormous lost to us all.
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