Rok, "Nica's Dream", has been my favorite tune for ages, my favorite jazz musician died in "Nica's" apartment, and until recently, I didn't know any more about her than you or Frogman.
Although she was disowned by the family, she got her share of the money. Nica traded a long Rolls in for the sport Bentley in order not to lose any races down 5th Avenue around midnight. Picture a long cigarette holder, a mink coat, a sport convertible Bentley, and you got Nica.
I was trying to present Nica's point of view, but you made me realize, I'm still quite "animalistic". The fact that the only person she was alone with was Monk's 9 year old son, when he was with her on mercy missions to help other jazz musicians; rent, food, and she even nursed Coleman Hawkins when he refused to go to the hospital; might account for her lack of intimacy.
The lady soaked in a tub with only a cigarette in that long cigarette holder to keep her company, while she listened to some of the very same musicians we just acquired on "The 100 best tunes of the 50's", having a jam session downstairs. (They always gave "The Baroness" the respect they felt she was entitled to, whatever she did)
Nica lived for the moment, and her life after she became "The Jazz Baroness" was one continues set. She told one of her nieces to meet her at a club: "How will I recognize the club"?
"Look for the car" was Nica's response. The niece instantly recognized the club, it was the the one with the badly parked Bentley in front, that had two winos lolling around on the leather seats. "They keep anyone from stealing the car", she was told after finding Nica. This was in a tiny basement club, where Nica was the only white person in the joint.
"Smoking a cigarette in a long black filter, her fur coat draped over the back of a spindly chair, Nica gestured to an empty seat, and picking up a teapot from the table, poured something into two chipped china cups. We toasted each other silently. I'd been expecting tea. Whisky bit into my throat; I choked and my eyes watered. Nica threw back her head and laughed."
"Thanks", I croaked. She put her finger to her lips, and nodding at the pianist on stage, said "Sssh, just listen to the music Hannah, just listen", as she swayed to the sounds.
Now you know why I'm so fascinated by Nica.
Enjoy the music.