If jazz were a color, what color would it be? And if it were a taste?

If Jazz Were a Color, What Color Would It Be? And If It Were a Taste?

That's a brilliant question—like describing one sense with another. There's no standard answer; this is purely personal. If I had to put it into words:

On Color: Midnight Blue with a Golden Halo

Many might immediately think "blue," since one root of jazz is the Blues. That subtle melancholy and bluesy sentiment are intrinsically tied to the color blue.

But I believe jazz’s color is far more complex.

It’s not a bright sky blue, but a deep midnight blue.

Imagine a late night in the city, when the clamor fades, and you slip into a cozy jazz bar. Pushing open the door, you find dim lighting and a lazy atmosphere hanging in the air. This space is steeped in that profound, serene, all-embracing midnight blue—symbolizing jazz’s foundation: the steady bass lines, the rhythmic drum beats, like a thick velvet curtain separating you from the outside chaos.

Yet this deep-blue curtain always holds a focal point:
Flowing, warm amber gold.

When the saxophone begins, its voice—warm, sensual, with a metallic edge—cuts through like a streak of gold against the dark night sky. As the trumpeter improvises with flamboyant high notes, it’s like sparks of gold erupting from the shadows. The crisp piano keys scatter like strings of golden pearls.

So, to me, jazz’s color is a fluid painting: a deep, embracing midnight blue backdrop, adorned and interlaced with spontaneous streaks of warm amber gold. It blends the stillness and melancholy of night with the warmth and passion of flickering lights.

On Taste: A Mug of Spiked Hot Chocolate

If color is visual, taste is more intimate and personal. For me, jazz’s flavor resembles a meticulously crafted, multi-layered cocktail.

To be specific, it’s like a mug of hot chocolate spiked with whiskey—or perhaps a classic Old Fashioned cocktail.

Why?

A Rich Base:
Its foundation is deep and comforting—like the bittersweet depth of dark chocolate balanced by a sweet aftertaste, or bourbon’s oak-barrel richness and caramel sweetness. This mirrors the steady rhythm woven by bass and drums: solid, dependable, wrapping you in ease.
Unexpected Accents:
A good drink needs more than its base. A pinch of sea salt atop the chocolate? Or the burst of citrus oils from an orange twist in a cocktail? That’s jazz’s soul—improvisation. You can never predict the saxophonist’s next surprise or the pianist’s dazzling runs. That thrill of the unexpected brings the whole experience to life.
A Lingering Warmth:
This “jazz drink” should warm you from the inside out, leaving a cozy, slightly tipsy relaxation. After great jazz—especially live—that sensation lingers like liquid warmth, leaving you immersed, unraveled, and endlessly captivated.

So its flavor is rich and layered: a surprise on the first sip, depth upon savoring, and a lingering, lazy warmth within. It’s no gulp-down beverage but something to nestle into a couch and slowly savor.