Lost and Found

Yes, I got lost last night. Trying to find The Palms at Crown. Lucky for me I met Scott Tinkler and he told me where to go. In the nicest possible way. Not a big fan of any casino, I've never been into this big one in Melbourne. Never. Not in the whole time I've lived here! But tonight I wanted to hear Oehlers, Grabowsky and Beck (sorry Dave, couldn't find your website...) Yamandu Costa Trio was on at Hamer Hall, but I heard them play twice last year. Not that they weren't worth hearing again (and again, and again) but... well... Hamer Hall just didn't seem like the right place for his sound. There's a heat in Costa's playing, a heated conversational quality in the band that the space did not do justice to, in my opinion. And also, I wanted some local sounds, a particular type of sound, that energises in that certain way ... and I knew these guys would deliver.

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And before I tell you how not disappointed I was about Jamie, Paul and Dave... how I found exactly what I needed, let me just (for those of you who haven't been there) tell you a litle about the Palms at Crown. It''s velour I'm talking about folks. A nice blue velour. And chrome. And a stage that looks like it's lit for --- gawd, I don't even know what for! Laurence, the exceptionally excellent guy from All About Jazz said in his characteristic low-key way. 'Wait until you see the dry ice' Well, I waited and there it was. And at the back of the stage there's a veritable constellation of little lights. It is just soooo showbiz. I wanted to go home and put on my gold lamé frock, to do it justice!

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But back to the music... when a proportion of the audience leans forward as one to take their jackets off at the end of a powerful, blasting, transporting Jamie Oehlers solo, well you have tangible evidence that energy is being transferred. Can't get more empirical than that, and that's what happend folks. I saw it with my own tired eyes. Probably only 5 or 6 people but he made that thing fiercely sing, then in the space at the end of it, the jacket removal manoeuvre occured. It was here, on night 3 of the festival that I felt, finally, what I always hope I will feel when I hear improvised music; some music that spoke that deeper, freeing language, below thought, that changes you so that you are different at the end of it than you were at the beginning, in ways that cannot be described in words. You don't know how it happens, you don't know how to repeat the experience. You just go, and open and listen. And then it happens. Alright!

Thanks Lost and Found.

*** and can someone have a word to the sound guys. About the piano. We had again, the experience of the piano sounds being right out the front. Oehler's saxophone blazing and Grabowsky's piano sounding louder. If someone reading this knows the sound guy for the Tord Gustavsen trio tonight, for example, could they have a quiet word. Sheeesh!

Dr Abdullah Ibrahim: EKAYA

So did any one see the picture of Paul Grabowsky doing this same face in the Sunday Mag a couple of weeks ago? Hmm. Whose idea was that I wonder... but I digress. It makes a bloke look worried. What is Dr Abdullah Ibrahim worried about?

Imagine this: the Regent Theatre lobby, at the end of a concert... A small sample of the types of conversations that were taking place...

Punter 1: What was the sound guy thinking. The piano was so amplified that he just had to touch a key "plink" and it reverberates through the whole room. And the bass was distorting. And the saxophones sounded like they weren't being amplified at all.
Punter 2: That was the most boring concert I have ever been to
Punter 3 to Punter 4: What did you think?
Punter 4: Hmmm. I had no idea it was going to go for two hours.
Punter 5: Can someone tell me how to get to Bennetts Lane?

Meanwhile, Punters 6 & 7 are discussiong the shells. Stafford Hunter (trombone, sea shells) was playing them on stage. Punter 7 tells Punter 6 about Steve Turre. Punter 6 is going to order a copy of a Steve Turre CD as soon as the shops open tomorrow. Apparently Trombones and Sea Shells go together. It's the trombonists who try the conch.

If I'm honest (it happens sometimes) I will admit that the conversation snippets above say more about the snippees than the subject of the conversation. At any festival it's important to remember that most fundamental of fundamental tenets : It is what it is.

It was a concert. It was Dr Abdullah Ibrahim. They didn't seem to hang together, did they. And the music flowed with--one punter said--a strong world and folk threads. This little punter/blogger works in an office on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays and she was extremely tired tonight. Another punter was treated to yours truly's head on his shoulder for a portion of the concert. And yours truly is not the one who thought the concert was boring. It was soporific in spots and that's a different thing. It was what it was.

Standouts for me were Howard Johnson's Baritone Sax, which woke me from a little doze on my neighbour's shoulder. I can highly recommend being woken up by those Howard Johnson sounds. It was pretty sweet, actually. Plus he plays a mean pennywhistle! And there was also the above mentioned Stafford Hunter, he of the conches. That sound was really something. I had never heard shells being played before.

The whole of EKAYA: Dr Abdullah Ibrahim - piano, Belden Bullock - bass, George Gray - drums, Cleave Guyton - saxophone, Stafford Hunter - trombone, sea shells, Howard Johnson - baritone, penny whistle and James Stewart - baritone, bass, clarinet, flute.

There were sweet dreamy moments aplenty. Not just metaphorically: had actual dreams while listening to this concert, a lovely half-state of consciousness, with the sounds providing a context. I wish the band had sounded more rehearsed. I wish the sounds had been more evenly amplified. But it was what it was. And it wasn't all bad.

But the Regent was effing freezing! Come ON people!! Turn the heating up, willya!

'Night.

"We're surprised to be here": Grigoryans

Yup, and so was M. Debussy, no doubt. Slava and Leonard played us a beautiful classical guitar concert to start our night of jazz. Gorgeous stuff but not what I would have put on a stage with a big Melbourne Jazz poster behind it. This set before Dr Abdullah Ibrahim was originally Charlie Hunter, who pulled out due to tendonitis that saw him cancelling lots of other gigs too, in Europe as well.

And no I'm not slagging the Griogoryan brothers. I love their music. But if I had a dollar for every time I heard 'Great Classical Concert' in the foyer of the Regent afterwards, then I could have bought my own tickets instead of relying on a media pass. And yes, that's my way of acknowledging that I don't want to be seen to be looking gift horse in the mouth. Deffo not the case... However... it was a classical concert. I heard something a little bit like it a month or two ago at Melba Hall, with a famous classical guitarist. And when the artists reach out to us in the audience, and say "We're surprised to be here," well the grumpy old bastards among us make a snorting noise out of our nostrils and roll our eyes back in our heads. What? What? What? You're surprised! What about the people who paid for a jazz concert! And yes, I know they played some Ralph Towner. The thing is, that's not the point. Is it? By the way, I loved the Debussy. Made me want to come home and listen to more.

At least our old friend was still there, providing continuity: "Oi wood loik to remoind yez that Slarvar and Lenn'd Grigoryan will be availab'l for merchandoise soining in the foya. The Ab-duller [yes, that's really how he pronounced it!!] Ibrahim concert will begin shortly."

Kurt Elling

And then there was Kurt. Here's how much I liked his singing at one stage... I was visiting Omaha, Nebraska in the US of A and being from a bit of a wide brown land (as the saying goes) and also being a bit of an impulsive spendthrift sometimes, I decided to visit Mr Elling's home town of Chicago and pop into the Green Mill to listen to him. I booked a cheap hotel downtown then got a cab to the club, lined up around the corner with everyone else, and eventually got in. The place has a loooooong bar and Kurt singing up the other end and around the corner. The place was PACKED and it was a great night. Omaha to Chicago is about the same distance as that between Sydney and Melbourne...

And then he came to Melbourne (which for him is a much longer distance than the one between Omaha and Chicago). He's been here before and he said he likes it. But he's good at his job and maybe he says that wherever he is. But no... surely not. Everybody wants to live in Melbourne... don't they????

He said he loved the room (the Concert was at the Regent), and it made me wonder what looked like from the stage. I must try that one day... But before there was any talking, he had launched into the concert with My Foolish Heart. A voice that I enjoy so much in my loungeroom, sounding great in that large, slightly shabby but magnificently, dustily opulent room at the pretty end of Collins Street. A little moth story in the middle of My Foolish Heart had me puzzled. There's this moth right, and it used to be the moon. Or the moon used to be the moth. And then the moth dissolves in ecstacy and joy and its limbs fall to the earth as a type of sacrament, and there something about touching the skin of the limbs with one's mouth, which made me feel a bit shuddery because I don't know if you've seen a moth's legs up close, like when you were learning to use a microscope as a kid and stuff but they're not the sort of thing I'd want to put in my mouth... but then he went back to My Foolish Heart, so that was alright after all.

Julien Wilson, who last night at the Secret Squirrels won The Renault Australian Jazz Artist of the Year award (Vroom Vroom! Congrats!) joined Kurt and band (Laurence Hobgood - piano, Robert Amster - bass, Kobie Watkins - drums) for Masquerade and a couple of other songs, with his classy black outfit and his saxophone and the crowd loved to see him there. A bucket of Karma to Kurt - he's been generous in this way before, inviting Michelle Nicolle up on stage with him on a previous visit too (I am told this by my friend the Phantom)

A few new songs, a few oldies (he finished with Resolution, the Coltrane piece with Kurt Elling lyrics - a beautiful song). As usual there were some lyrics I dug and some I didn't... One song I liked had a line in it that has stuck with me tonight... "We think by feeling; what is there to know?" I hear alot of that from musicians, funnily enough.

Also memorable, the Dexter Gordon piece (I think it's from the Nightmoves CD) with lyrics that celebrate Kurt's daughter (now two and half years old, he told us... )

And a wave to Nancy Wilson who had been originally booked by the festival and was not able to make it due to Ill Health. A signature tune (Kurt's words) Save Your Love For Me done simple and warm.

He's got a great voice, he's got a great band. He seems generous, warm, authentic and he says he likes us and the city we live in.

Noice. Lidies n gennlemen, Kurt Alling wool be available for merchandoise soining after the show. Thank you and good noight.

Django Reinhardt's Children

Who knew that a Jazz Festival concert would turn out to be a language lesson. Do you know Kath & Kim, the infamous Fountain Gate dwellers with their very own TV programme? If you do, then just take Kath's voice and make it male. Then announce a 'gypsy jazz' (not my words, I got them from the festival programme!) guitar group that plays "In the tradition of Django Reinhardt" (also lifted from the programme). If you don't know Kath & Kim, just bung on an Australian accent. Broad as you like. So broad that it feels like 'strewth' needs to be part of anything you say. There ya go. Bewdiful.

"Laidies n Gennlemen, wouldja please welc'm Lez Onfonts de Jangoh."

Lucky for us the band started playing... Beautiful guitars. After Wadada Leo Smith's challenges and exhilarations last night, this was a different kind of pleasure. Tapping, clapping all around as the audience really got into the guitar sounds. Smiling, strong playing from Yorgui Loeffler (guitar) Xavier Nikq (bass), Mike Reinhardt (guitar) and Samson Schmitt (guitar). Deffo a guitar group, no? I really found myself enjoying knowing when a tune began and when it ended. There are protocols with this music. I like to listen to lots of types of music with my eyes closed, but not this. I'm eyes open wide awake.

Life. You can feel the life. The sort of life that leads to large family gatherings at Sunday dinners in European immigrant backyards where vegetables are grown... Or maybe that's my own past creeping up to haunt me.

Unfortunately, we struck a language problem a couple of songs in... "Parlez vous francais?" we were asked by one of the musicians. We heard "oui" "Oui!" "oui" from scattered locales within the audience. Note my judicious use of the word scattered... Somehow the scattered minority were interepreted to represent the entire audience. The rest of the concert was delivered in French, which when it came to the music thankfully had no ill effect for non-francophones in the audience. In fact I'd be hard pressed to say whether it would have sounded any different at all in English, if I'm honest.

I knew, at some stage that I would be tempted to buy a CD at the end. But I also knew I'd resist. It's music I can listen to for hours, live, but somehow on the stereo, it's not the same.

And at the end the blessed return to our native tongue. "Woudja ploise thenk Lez Onfonts de Jango. Bloody Brilliant. There's CDs n other merchandoise for yez if yer want 'em, out the front. Kurt's gonna be here soon but yez have all got toime for a coldie... "

Wadada Leo Smith

John Clare, in his article on the SIMA (Sydney Improvised Music Association) website speaks warmly of Wadada Leo Smith's visit (at that time impending) visit to Australia. I hope he had a chance to hear a concert or more...

And even though there were no Melbourne Jazz concerts to be found on the program for the festival's opening night [hint to next year's Melbourne Jazz organisers....], I did find somewhere go to last night. Wadada Leo Smith, at Bennetts Lane. He was playing with Brisbane's Yusuke Akai (guitar), Melbourne's Erkki Veltheim (violin), and Sydney's Dale Gorfinkel (vibraphone), Peter Farrar (alto sax), Sam Dobson (acoustic bass) and Alex Masso (drums). Hooray for the Melbourne Jazz Cooperative (MJC) for getting him here... And I couldn't help wondering why he wasn't a big feature, international star guest at the Melbourne Jazz Fringe... ah well. I'm only a punter... ours not to reason why...

Some of the sounds I heard last nght, I couldn't get my head around but they kept me there, waiting sometimes for what would happen next. Sometimes trying to 'get it' (usually a waste of time but I just keep trying!!) but never, never, tired of it. The timing and the space he creates were what kept me leaning forward and wanting more (I pinched that from Phil Slater, who helped me out with how to talk about what I was hearing.) and I was rewarded regularly enough to keep me happy. Which is what it's all about, right?

Wadada Leo Smith watched and guided the musicians he was playing with... actively involved in making this happen. He was peacefully, consciously present, engaged and helping to keep them there too. I did get a sense of space, a beautiful sense of a guiding hand over and around the sounds these guys were making. We journeyed from carefully constructed grooving rhythms that had feet tapping all over the room, to passages of seeming chaos that had the guy in the front row shaking and rolling his head like there was a moth in his ear (no joke! He looked like he was enjoying himself so much I was tempted to try it... there are so many ways to listen to music!) and then slowly slowly a quietness was allowed in and space was created for the heavenly clear notes of Wadada's trumpet...

Challenging? At times, Ye Gods, yes! But I'd been primed... Gerry Koster has been playing alot of Wadada Leo Smith on his Jazz Up Late programme on ABC Classic FM so I knew what to expect.
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While Wadada Leo Smith would hardly have been a programming choice for Melbourne Jazz, he was coincidentally performing on the festival's first night, which-as mentioned previously probably has no concerts in the program because the night is given over to the unadvertised, secret squirrelly Bell Awards. It was only on leaving Bennetts Lane last night that a friend showed me pile of DL cards saying 'You're invited!' and realised that the 6:00 - 8:00 pm awards ceremony was probably something I could have gone to. Ooops! Why hadn't I heard that previously? Bugger!

Excitement builds

Well, the Melbourne Jazz advertised dates are 29 April to 4 May... which means it all starts tomorrow! But I can't see any events advertised on 29th. Maybe the Bell Awards account for the date. Rumour has it that the big dinner is on tomorrow night. A very exclusive event! If I hear any gossip, I'll post it, but no doubt the Jazz Australia website will keep you as updated as you want to be...

But me, I'll be out and about from 30 April, going to gig after gig, night after night for as much of the five day festival as I can. What to expect? Don't expect erudite reviewing. Don't be hanging off my every word... I'm going to listen, feel, respond and blog. In approximately that order. It's an experiment.

Join me if you wish! Comments welcome!