Products of our times

I was listening to Errol Buddle and his quartet last night at the first night of Geoff Page’s Gods Café series for 2009 when I thought of irony and the post-modern. This was a night of standards, including ones that went way back. So it felt like a visit to a sweeter, more honest past. Thoughts of girls with hair like the Andrews Sisters or perhaps beatnikettes; fatter, rounder sax tones with breath; and a time when you could still invest all your time and energy in those beautiful American tunes. It felt like something that we’ve lost after R&R and the post-modern: a humility before the American songbook. An authentic and, significantly, a non-ironic approach: another era, when we could think of considerable beauty without fashionable mockery.

Bye bye blackbird and Swinging shepherd blues and Baubles, bangles and beads and Sweet Georgia Brown strike me this way: as tunes I can’t take too seriously. I don’t feel quite the same about Take the A-train or Don’t get around much anymore or Mood indigo and less so for Night in Tunisia, but I’m sure some people do. I’m somewhere in between on Georgia. So the repertoire was of another era, but that’s not to denigrate it, just to place it. We are in many ways products of our times, so it’s not a surprise that a senior of the Australian jazz craft should present from an earlier era.

The sounds also matched the choices of tunes. Rhythms were steadier and more restrained. Substitutions were rarer and less extreme. Tones were more traditional, with the sax more airy and less steely. It felt like an era before Coltrane, such were the harmonies and approaches and tones, although there was a clear awareness of bop, with frequent quotes and shaggy lines and flattened fifth tags. There was genuine fluency within these norms which suggested that Errol must have been a ripper in his younger days. One friend commented he’d heard him in the seventies, and that’s just what he was. He’s still impressive. Errol is noted as a multi-instrumentalist. The flute and the tenor and alto and soprano saxes were no particular surprise, other than that I really enjoyed the flute, and I don’t usually. But the oboe on Night in Tunisia had me leaving my seat to see what that sound was (I couldn’t see the stage where I sat). It fitted beautifully. Errol played with real fluency and I clearly imagined snake charmers in the local souk. Similarly, Marée on piano took me aback with a pleasantly sweet voice which was clearly reminiscent of Blossom Dearie, and with a similarly mock-romantic theme. I wanted to hear more, but she only sang one song on the night. Bob played a steady drum part, with brushes or sticks and hi-hat, and very sparse accents on kick drum, with a few solos here and there. Our own Eric Ajaye is wonderfully reliable in picking a sustained and appropriate accompaniment. He did it this night, too, where a sweet bass line was required: all glissery and fluid and smooth and expressive, and doubly so on some truly sublime solos.

But thinking back on all my musings, I wonder: Was this really a more innocent era that justifies a lofty irony in our times? Theirs was a time following the greatest conflagration of the most ideological century, after death camps and in the middle of nuclear-threats of cold war. Now just who are the innocents here, and who are the simply comfortable and fashionable?

Errol Buddle (soprano, alto, tenor saxes, flute, oboe) played with Marée Steinway (piano), Eric Ajaye (bass) and Bob Baird (drums).

Godly tuba

Gareth and his mates performed last night at the Gods as the Gareth Hill Quartet. It was a return performance of the Sam Young Quartet which performed at Hippo’s a few weeks back, this time without Miroslav Bukovsky sitting in. As sometimes happens with jazz players, this band appears under different names when the bookings call for it. When they go incommunicado, they can also appear as Lookwell, a name taken from a favoured, but very short-lived (single episode?), TV program. Confused?

The performance was not so confusing. This was a quieter and more attentive environment for the band, and it highlighted the interplay and good natured friendship between the players. The playing was much as observed at Hippo, but it was all clearer and more evident in this listeners’ environment. Aron’s guitar was malleable, sometimes dirty, and often intriguingly indeterminate in pitch. Valdis played some lovely, often simple but always tasty solos and backed with interesting counterpoint or ostinato lines. Sam watched the others studiously, and played well structured solos and responsive support. Gareth is a keystone, at one time holding a 6 feel across 4/4 for a lengthy passage of melody and solos, and at various other times soloing and backing with comfort and solidity.

I caught more of the names and composers of tunes this time. They played Scofield’s Cool and Ellington’s African flower. African flower is a lovely, unforced Ellington melody (aren’t they all?) and it was a treat to hear it played on a sultry and sinuous trombone. The other tunes were all originals, roughly equally shared between Aron, Sam and Gareth. I heard post bop, New Orleans marches, fusion, lullabies, Wunderlust and more amongst the styles, so there was variety.

It was a worthy return performance, another satisfying concert at the Gods, and another recording to listen out for on ArtSound over coming weeks or months.

The band comprised Gareth Hill (bass), Aron Lyon (guitar), Valdis Thomann (trombone, tuba) and Sam Young (drums).

Meeting of the generations

Geoff Page’s 2007 jazz series ended with a meeting of young and old. Ross Clarke and Terry Wynn are jazz names with considerable history in Canberra. They played together at The Pendulum, an early modern jazz venue in a basement in Garema Place in the 60s and 70s, and have been local names ever since. The newer generations were represented by James Luke and Mark Sutton.

The event got me musing on issues of changes in jazz. Most obviously, the experience of living through such years of jazz change, say from the mainstream of Oscar Peterson and Ray Brown, to the modern of McCoy Tyner and the post bop of Benny Golson. All these composers featured in the concert, and they are so different although all members of a family. Also, the changes in education, from old school listening to new school academic training. And memories of old jazz clubs and touring solo artists and local house bands in clubs just like the Pendulum must have been. Individual international players don’t seem to tour that way these days. And specifically for me, memories of 70s Adelaide and the Creole Room, and local names including Geoff Kluke, Schmo and Ted Nettlebeck.

It was an interesting concert with some great playing. Terry played a range of horns. He started on clarinet. It’s a workhorse from the past, but now relegated. Geoff Page mentioned it was the first time clarinet had appeared in 5 or so years of his jazz concerts, and this just confirmed the fact. Terry also played a range of saxes at various times: soprano, alto and tenor. Interestingly, I felt his tone on sax was reminiscent of the clarinet sounds that he started the night with. Ross played all styles, but I could feel the formative influences of the mainstream in his more modern playing. James excelled himself on the night, with simply structured but lyrical and expressive solos, good solid swing in backing, and a great, growling tone. This was very mature playing from the baby of the pack. Mark was responsive and aware and swinging, but came into new focus with the McCoy Tyner tunes. It was clear there was a real comfort with the Elvin Jones style.

There were a range of styles. From a St Louis blues clone with a bass-played melody, through McCoy Tyner tunes, Contemplation and Changes, the standard Softly as a morning sunrise, Spyrogyra’s Shaker song, Benny Golson’s Killer Joe, Gershwin’s Soon and There’s a boat that’s leaving soon for NY, Oscar Peterson’s Smudge and Ray Brown’s Bam bam bam, and an encore of that beautiful ballad, The very thought of you. There were originals, too, presumably from Ross’s pen. He talked of influences leading to several compositions and it hinted to me again of the aural nature of the craft at the time. For instance, how he’d composed Flyaway after hearing snippets of a Dusty Springfield tune. I heard it as harmonically reminiscent of There will never be another you (not sure if Ross agrees).

The band was Ross Clarke (piano), Terry Wynn (clarinet, saxes), James Luke (bass), Mark Sutton (drums). It was a good night for recollections, history and generational interaction and a suitable way to end another season of Geoff Page’s Jazz at the Gods. Listen to ArtSound for snippets from the recording of the night, and look out for Geoff's 2008 jazz series when it starts next year.

Brian Stewart's Photo gallery of this concert

Gently does it

The members of the Julien Wilson trio performed recently at Wang, with and without Elana Stone, and then moved on up to Canberra and the Gods for a local performance. Julien Wilson (tenor) and Stephen Grant (accordion) were playing with Geoff Hughes (guitar). Geoff replaced Steve Magnussen, who popped off to Europe after his Wang gigs. Geoff had played at Wang on the Drunken Boat with Allan Browne.

This was another drum- and bass-less gig at the Gods. The sax was airy and subtle. The accordion provided bass and melody lines as well as chordal washes. The sharp-sounding Spanish guitar provided solos, accompaniment and sometimes unison melody. The music was mostly original, but with a few latin-tinged versions of known tunes; their first tune was It might as well be spring. The aural atmosphere was more reminiscent of South American piazzas than French streets, which is the usual connotation of accordians and classical guitars. This was textured, soft, thoughtful music, and very well received by an audience which was larger than expected given this was the night of the Melbourne Cup. But I don’t imagine these types would have spent the afternoon grogging on at the racecourse.

ArtSound was recording, so expect to hear snippets on radio.

Sylvie's sidekicks (NJWC3)

The third of CJ's three reviews for the National Jazz Writing Competition

Gig review
Sylvia Mitchell Trio
Sylvia Mitchell (alto sax), Jess Green (guitar), Zoe Hauptmann (bass)
Jazz at the Gods Café, ANU, Canberra
7 August 2007
537 words

Canberra is a hidden gem in jazz in Australia. This was a night to savour the influence of the national capital, and especially of Canberra’s Jazz School, on the life of jazz in Australia. For these were three significant women of Australian jazz who played for a homecoming crowd at Geoff Page’s annual Jazz at the Gods series. They were billed as the Sylvia Mitchell Trio, but appeared on the night as Sylvie & the Sidekicks: Sylvia Mitchell (alto sax), Jess Green (guitar) and Zoe Hauptmann (bass). They are from slightly different eras in the life of the Jazz School: Sylvia followed her sidekicks by a few years. They are dispersed now: Jess and Zoe to Sydney; Sylvia moving from Melbourne to Sydney. Two (Jess and Zoe) have already released CDs of mirth and considerable compositional originality on the JazzGroove label, and now Sylvia is planning a release. So these are competent players, with educational connections and female pride to boot.

From the top, it was smooth, melodically rich, harmonically complex and always rooted in the groove. Zoe’s the essence of the bassist: harmonically clear, driving grooves, fitting fills and falls. There were some solos, but her strength is in laying down that beat. In this, she’s a master. But the rhythm was greatly enriched by counterpoint from Jess’ guitar: small dissonant chords and note clumps, syncopated across Zoe’s backbeats. A rich tapestry of rhythm, and a full harmonic underlay for solos. So full and interpretive with just two players. On this bedrock was Sylvia’s horn. She’s younger than Zoe or Jess, and the lesser experience is evident, but there’s a full range, considerable chops to take on Bird bop, a good ear for musos like Dave Holland, wide experience, and compositional skills as well. In addition, Jess’ solos were wonderful, restrained explorations of consonant and frequently dissonant melody: truly beautiful and thoughtful. And she added the pleasure of a surprisingly satisfying voice: unexpected but gladly received. Voice is truly a messenger of the gods.

The performance ranged widely. There were standards. Jess sang “What is this thing called love”. There was a guitar/bass duet on “Willow weep for me” featuring a Mingus-inspired gliss-full bass solo, and hard swing and fast unison lines on Monk’s “I mean you”. Sylvia selected Bird’s “Au privave” and “Confirmation”, but also “Four winds” and “African Lullaby” from Dave Holland. And there were some wonderfully capable original compositions. Jess provided several from her CD, “Singing fish”. Zoe gave us a riff-based tune called “Guts for garters” (“think of pirates and ghost ships”) with a dissonant, chromatic, Djangoesque cut time accompaniment by Jess. There were several tunes by Sylvia from her music to Geoff Page’s poetic theatre piece, “Drumming on water”.

But perhaps the sound was the surprise for me for the night. Without drums, Zoe’s bass displayed its clear, sharp attack, and soft decay. Jess’ Fender thinline seduced with its woody throated tone filtered through Fender valve distortion. A perfect match for her Scofield sensibility. And Sylvia’s tone and range was equally discernable above the understory.

Like their respectful presentation, this was not a manifest display of virtuosity. There was far more sincerity than that. That’s why it was so, so satisfying.

Previous photo-essay for this concert

BTW, the second place winner in the NJWC, Keith Penhallow, is a Canberran and also reviewed this concert. Read it on the NJWC site

Lesson from the teachers (JG2)

The James Greening Quartet was a quiz (apparently that’s the collective noun) of teachers from the Jazz School. Faculty band performances are always competent, but but this show was more than average - it worked a treat. Perhaps due to the long-term interactions of two pairs of musicians. Perhaps just the performance space and the tunes or the friendly and jokey atmosphere from James’ chatting. Whatever, it was a great night.

James Greening (trombone, pocket trumpet, didjerdoo) visits the Jazz School on Mondays to teach trombone players. He has a long history (20+ years?) of playing with Miroslav Bukovsky (trumpet, melodica) in Wanderlust and other outfits. The interplay is obvious and pleasing, with solos passed back and forth, and some lovely counterpoint from each of the players. They are clearly good listeners and Miro highlighted this as a key for the night. Certainly it wasn’t extended rehearsals, because James, Eric and Col were still checking out charts as I arrived. Eric Ajaye (bass) and Col Hoorweg (drums) have a parallel history of playing together, although of only 7 years duration. So this was a merging of two pairs of players (rhythm section and front line) where each pair had longevity.

The tunes ranged widely. There were two tunes by Ornette Coleman: When will the blues leave? and Birdfood. There seems to be much interest in Ornette recently. It’s not surprising given it’s so intellectually pleasing and solidly blues-based. Ornette has recently won a Pulitzer prize, so perhaps there’s some retrospective happening. Otherwise, there was a world of styles: African (Dedication to the Lion of Zimbabwe), latin, calypso, a rollicking but gentle tune by Don Cherry (Roland Alphonso), electronic drums from Col, and an original blues by one of James’ students: An Afro red, by Matt Sykes.

James played with great lyrical ability. He’s strongly diatonic, but convincingly and interestingly so. His intonation is also superbly accurate and clearly stated over the full range of the instrument. On pocket trumpet, he’s also capable (even with a water glass for a mute); more atonal but less flamboyant. I particularly loved some counterpoint with Miro which was simple but so apt, and also some collective soloing in the trad vein on Matt Syke’s tune. Miro’s trumpet was tempered and fairly quiet (his bop is far louder!) and always expressive of the tune: an example of that clear listening mentioned above. He also played melodica on the Don Cherry tune: his “chromatic breathalyser”, according to James. The melodica sound is none too rich, but it worked and especially provided some nice harmonised melody. Apparently melodica was also played on the Don Cherry original. Eric was blowing a storm. He was on acoustic on the night. There was huge subtlety in his right hand as he formed soft notes with virtually no attack. There was hard swing at times, and richly embellished rhythm at others. He often reminds me of Buster Williams, with low action, slides, growls and the like. A master at work. Col held his end up with unadorned rhythms, but providing wonderful changing backdrops over time against each tune. It’s a deceptively simple technique, but very satisfying. Also, hand work on the drums, and a huge range of electronic sounds against didjerdoo in the tune, Hypnotic. James quipped of the electronics as “Col’s stuff”. They were very nice, if electronically simple, sounds, and added a twist to the (otherwise staid) jazz tonal palette.

James is renowned for his presence on the Today Show (!!!) and Playschool (!!!!!!) not to mention Wanderlust, catholics, 10 Part Invention, Bernie McGann and the rest, so we could expect no less a show than this. A great night of playing with considerable mirth. ArtSound were there so expect to hear snippets on the radio over coming months.

Under Black Mtn, the Gods (JG1)

Text by Daniel Wild, pics by Eric

Under Black Mountain lie 'The Gods' of ANU – a small cafe where poets, painters and musicians meet to listen, discourse and splash paint. Well, maybe they don't splash paint but the place is like a mini-gallery where artists can display their conceptual work.

The Gods is appropriately opposite the Careers Centre and next to STA Travel. Artists looking for work need go no further than five steps across the lane, apply for a job, then head back in for a coffee. Musicians with the money to travel can check out the latest airfares to New York and Paris, spiritual homes of jazz. But Canberra does well to protect its talent from the big smoke of Sydney or the sophisticates of Melbourne (tongue firmly in cheek – ed.)

Tuesday evening saw the continuation of a series of jazz performances organised by Geoff Page. This gig combined the best from Sydney and Canberra under the banner of the James Greening Quartet.

On drums, the effervescent Colin Hoorweg set lively and syncopated beats. He is particularly impressive on the latin numbers where he freely makes use of the tom-tom Max Roach style. His brush work on the cool numbers was refined and allowed the music to breath. He never misses an offbeat on the high-hat. Miroslav Bukovsky's trumpet playing is second to none in Canberra and needs no summarising. Whether playing acid jazz, swing, cool or bop, his playing reflects the nuances of the band around him and lifts all performances to a higher level.

Eric Ajaye is Canberra's best kept secret. An accomplished bass player across all genres, Eric's latin grooves are reminiscent of the bass player on Freddie Hubbard's ground breaking composition, 'Little Sunflower'. Speaking of trumpeters, James Greening pulled out the pocket trumpet for a few numbers, delighting and surprising the audience with his fluid lines and mellow tone. But the trombone is his signature instrument and he plays it as it should be played. He doesn't try and imitate the sax or trumpet with too many notes – instead he makes use of the trombone's slide and produces wistful blue notes and weaves hypnotic narratives.

The band enjoyed themselves and after settling down, indulged in some witty repartee amongst themselves and between themselves and the audience, who were relaxed and cheerful. And so another evening at the gods was wiled away. Along with the Hippo Bar, this is Canberra's most intimate venue for jazz.

Sylvie's sidekicks

This time a photo essay. The Sylvia Mitchell Trio appeared at The Gods Cafe as Sylvie & the Sidekicks. A beautiful, considered performance, with intense grooves, on standards and originals by all members. An intimate, cerebral experience. Sylvia Mitchell (alto sax), Jess Green (guitar), Zoe Hauptmann (bass).

The review fromt his concert was entered in the National Jazz Writing Competition, and is now belatedly published as Sylvie's sidekicks (NJWC3). Ed. 10 Nov 2006

Thank Gods for the fairer sex

Sandy Evans’ gig got me thinking about women in jazz. I’m from a feminist era when differences were debunked. The fight was around equal pay for equal work, so the argument promoted parity. Yes, there was some awareness of difference, but the differences between sexes or cultures or social groups were seen as outweighed by individual differences. Dominant women and gentle men countered traditional stereotypes. Normal distributions overlapped to a degree that highlighted likeness where now we see difference. So I find it hard to ascribe differences beyond social conditioning. But still I’ve got a suspicion that women’s jazz is different, and the jazz of the trio led by Sandy Evans at the Gods last night was my latest subject of research.

This was a band of intense concentration, frequent joy, authentic interactions and clear, melodic conceptions. It’s this feeling of story telling, of melodic honesty and a true improvisational closeness to the underlying tune, perhaps of a lack of male bravado, that seemed on display in this music. Sandy had been written up in that day’s Canberra Times, and was quoted on the differences between male and female student improvisors at the Sydney Con, so perhaps it was just on my mind.

The band played in various styles - swing, rock, blues, calypso, jump jazz. The night was mostly originals, mainly composed by Sandy, I think, but there was also involvement by Brett. They played two standards: If I were a bell, and a rendition of that glorious gospel-drenched Ellington tune, Come Sunday. Any trio format is limited in options for sounds and solos, so the tunes were mostly heads by Sandy, perhaps unison with Brett, then sax and bass solos. There were several drum interludes. But the soloing was honest and true, and that’s not to say it didn’t display plenty of chops. It did, but it didn’t overwhelm the musicality.

There was some gentle amusement that raised some chuckles. Sandy offered Miles albums for sale along with her own (surprisingly funny at the time). And again, when we expected her to comment on a title, she seemed to think twice and said instead “That’s all you need to know”. And there was a musical game called One for Harry which involved Toby controlling the tune by blowing a whistle. As I remember, one blast signalled the end of a passage in 2 bars, sometimes with a mighty flourish, and 2 blasts signalled the drum solo. Apparently his 7 year old son had taken the whistle days before, but he wasn’t available on the night, so Dad got the job. There was also some seriousness. Sandy spoke of a recent tour in the North and how aboriginal kids were going to school, and presented a much more positive image than we’re being fed during this election-aware, post-Tampa national emergency.

Individually, their performances were a joy. Sandy plays authentic melodies on soprano and tenor saxes, and searching solos, in and out of tonality but not palpably so. She mentioned Joe Henderson as an inspiration. Brett plays with a heavy tone and in close relationship to Sandy; always expressive on that most clumsy of instruments. His were some great solos which were always true to form and tune. Toby could be busy or ecstatic, but again, always locked in expression with the others. These were three equal parts of a balanced mix.

The Sandy Evans Trio comprises Sandy Evans (soprano & tenor saxes), Brett Hirst (bass), Toby Hall (drums). They gave us a night where the whole exceeded the sum of the parts. A true and honest expression of modern jazz in Australia.

Sandy Evans Trio website

First of the Gods

Leigh Barker’s Quintet were the first performers in this year’s Jazz Series at the Gods. Leigh and his mates provide a real Canberra ambience at their local gigs. Leigh, the leader and bassist, is a local, as is John Felstead on saxes. But it’s not just the fact of their background, but also the presence of friends and family at his concerts, and the references to the local area, that only a Canberran would understand. Their first CD is called “Off to Moruya”. It’s obviously a reference to the Moruya Jazz Festival, where they regularly play. Apparently, the cover designer was a Melbourne bloke who was intrigued by a grotesqueness in the name, Moruya, so it stuck for the album. Then, there’s the hot swing original tune called Merimbula, another obvious reference to a town and a local jazz festival. But the band is now resident in Melbourne, and apparently is very busy with work there. So in truth this is another homecoming from more successful ex-patriates.

I like this band’s complexity of conception. It’s a real mix. You may hear pre-bop in the rhythm section, cut time on drums, perhaps a gentle swing on bass, along with the sound of French boulevards on the piano accordian, and a bit of modern dissonance on the sax and trumpet. So it’s an intriguing and, to me, unique blend of trad, mainstream and modern styles. And their presentation fits to boot: brown suits, with jackets removed after a few tunes, and rolled up sleeves for the busy end of the night. Leigh even wore braces. Perfect. This is intelligent entertainment. No wonder they have plenty of work.

The night started with Ellington’s The Mooch. (I’m sure they started with this at Hippo’s when I saw them, but it’s a perfect, sleezy tune to set the ambience). There was a tune by Heather Stewart of Melbourne, called Music Room, which featured a cut-time reminscent of European films – cute, humourous and deceptively light music. There were several originals by the band, recalling Moruya and Merimbula, If I had a brain from the Wizard of Oz, and a Nat King Cole favourite called Ruby and the Pearl. They raised a chuckle with a tune called “What this thing called, love?”, and ended with a dedication to Bill Frisell (I think I got this right), which surprised me given the style, called In the country with Bill.

From my modern jazz, soloistic, individualistic point of view, I most liked the solos of the two horns. Eamon played some very satisfying fast lines, and often broke out into dissonance with repeated patterns at chromatic and other intervals. John also frequently dipped into the distorted pool of dissonance, and I liked that. When I previously heard Matt at Hippo’s he played both accordion and piano, and I thought there was more inventiveness on the piano. This time he only played accordion, and the style was not so much jazzy as euro-folk and ambient. I liked this, and it certainly highlighted the uniqueness of the band. Leigh and Al both set capable rhthyms, and did a few nice solos, too.

The Leigh Barker Quintet are Leigh Barker (bass), Al Mcgrath-Kerr (drums), John Felstead (saxes), Eamon McNelis (trumpet), and Matt Boden (piano, accordian)

Leigh’s band plays again at White Eagle on Thurs 14 June, for those who missed this show. ArtSound recorded the concert, so you can also expect to hear the band on radio over coming months. Thanks to Geoff Page for organising the series. The next Gods to visit the Café are Sandy Evans, Toby Hall and Brett Hirst, on 3 July. These are authentic Australian jazz gods, so get there if you can.

Bernie McGann - guest review

Text by Gilles Rohan

Bernie McGann played at Geoff Page’s “Jazz in Concert at the Gods” on 2 May 2006.

Since I first saw Bernie McGann at “Morgan’s Feedwell” in Glebe, Sydney, over 20 years ago, he has mellowed yet retained the inventiveness and thoughtfulness that has made him stand out in the Australian and global jazz scenes. In those days the “freer” exuberance of a certain lineage was evident. Bernie would exhibit a musical vitality that would leave the average heavy wotsit rock band for dead despite the obvious aggro of unbridled decibels. I’ve seen him play a number of times since then and have never been disappointed.

On this night, as on others, in the intimate surroundings of the “Gods”, one had a very 50s to 60s ‘jazz club’ experience, without the smoke; I’m not referring to the preponderant age sample present – we get to see some more youthful types at the gigs – not just the musos!

Bernie, as usual, worked well with the other members of the band. There was Warwick Alder on trumpet, Lloyd Swanton on bass and the young Alex Masso on drums, replacing John Pochée who was unable to make it on the night.

Bernie manages to craft velvet to gutsy sounds that meld with the other players’ contributions in a frequently retiring manner. No shove it in your face arrogance here. He can still teach a few the value of vibrant yet unassuming performances. Sure, the years have softened the sharpest edges of his phrases, yet there are enough examples of the current variety to make it all very worthwhile.

Between the sets I had a brief chat with Bernie. I purchased a couple of his recent offerings: ‘Blues for Pablo too’ and ‘Live at Side on’– what can I say? Excellent.

He still seems very much “driven” by his music, and, when I asked him if he saw himself playing for some time yet, he answered along the lines of “what else is there?” Good question.

Thanks to Gilles Rohan for this review. It's the first guest review for CJ. We welcome others. I can't attend everything, so get in touch if you can help. Probably the easiest way to add your input is to email a Letter to the editor. See the CJ's Letters page for instructions.

Pic from this concert

Luke Sweeting Trio

The Luke Sweeting Trio played for the last of the Jazz at the Gods series last night. LST are Luke Sweeting (piano), Hannah James (acoustic bass) and Ed Rodrigues (drums). Luke and Ed are 2nd year students at the CSM Jazz School, and Hannah is a 1st year student. The quality of the concert is a measure of the output from the Jazz School, and congratulations to both the band and the school.

LST played two brackets of standards. I loved the choice, and I learned the titles of a few well-known but unidentified melodies. Tunes included Lullaby of Birdland, You don’t know what love is, Sandu, Groovin’ high, Stella…, Softly as a morning sunrise, Whisper not (including the rarely-played march in the C section) and Wayne Shorter’s Deluge. It was an oddly conceived but fascinating version of Autumn leaves that they played, and I was taken by a down-home bluesy version of Blue monk. But I especially loved their take on Invitation. It’s a great latin tune and a favourite of mine. They played it later in the night when they were warmed up and more relaxed. It was a complex rendition, with lots of variation, moves from latin to swing and back and plenty of solos passed between the players. Lovely! Then the encore of Bird’s Scrapple from the apple demanded all their chops to finish the night.

Luke played lines from the heart of the tune: always defining the underlying movements, although often enough challenging with moves out of the strict harmonies. Hannah played solid and ever-reliable rhythm section lines in latin and walks, and was always right on the harmonic and rhythmic structure. And despite her obvious concentration against double-time and bebop walks, she continued to mark the tune out clearly. Ed provided a solid underlying rhythm with cymbal colours and interesting solos. He amused me with two solos where he played the tune’s melody by changing pitch of a tom by pressing the skin. Synth for skins?

Another proof of the quality of the Jazz School, and a fine way to end Geoff Page’s Jazz series at the Gods for 2006.

Straight Up!

It was a pleasure and a privilege to hear this great Canberra trio last night at the Gods jazz series. Straight Up! have been together for ~18 months. They perform occasionally, especially on the jazz festival circuit, and have recently recorded a CD. Their experience shows. They played with immense energy and a real, close responsiveness between players. The show awed the attentive audience, and the players’ joy in the performance was palpable. It’s hard to describe the pleasure and the deep, searching melodies and interplays and improvisations on the night.

Straight Up! comprise three of the foremost modern jazz players in Canberra at present: Eric Ajaye (bass), Michael Azzopardi (piano) and Chris Thwaite (drums). Eric, of course, is the much admired bass teacher at the jazz school, with a wealth of experience behind him in US jazz (tours, gigs and recordings with the likes of Chaka Khan and Freddie Hubbard). Michael has a history in Sydney with top players, and Chris has long experience around Canberra. Michael and Chris are both products of the CSM Jazz School. Together, they form a powerful and interactive trio in the modern vein, and offer an almost fully original repertoire.

Eric plays an electric double bass most of the time (Steinberger 5-string), although he finished with two tunes on electric (Steinberger headless, but all the sounds produced from a midi pickup feeding a Roland bass unit; the sound was great and seemed responsive to his fingerwork). Eric is always rock solid in whatever style. He uses lots of slides and interprets freely and richly with plenty of solos. He’s a stunning player of the highest performance level (our little bit of New York in Canberra). He also offers a friendly and familial interaction as he talks with the audience between tunes. Michael plays fast and furious, freely changing tonalities from piano to pads and other synths, and voices it all with elegant tone bends as he moves inside and outside of the relevant harmony. Chris displayed great awareness of the tune and to the others’ playing. He has a sharp, strong sound (BTW he uses two snares: one standard and one high pitched) and pushes the rhythm and interprets the melody strongly throughout. His fills are always apt, and his solos are clear in intent. He did several solos against repetitive patterns held by bass and piano (a common modern style), and one interesting drum solo on a ballad – not a common format for a drum solo.

The tunes varied, but all within modern jazz styles. There were latins, hard bops, ballads and more spacey modernist tunes. They related to events or experiences in their lives, eg, 88 keys to happiness (obviously a pianist’s tune), a tune about Michael’s dog, and a tune about St Thomas where Eric’s father had lived. In fact, the personal aspect of the concert was infectious. The trio smiled often and freely. They were gentle and honest in presence, but strong and expansive in playing. They told us of common aspects of their lives - common birthdays, and common wives’ names - but joked about the different personalities of their dogs. I guess I mean their performance was emotionally satisfying. Certainly, that was the impression of the audience after the show.

An intense, infectious and satisfying concert at the highest level. See this band!

Valdis Thomann Trio

Valdis Thomann (trombone) led a trio with colleagues from the CSM Jazz School, Neils Rosendahl (tenor and soprano sax) and Michael Azzopardi (piano) at Geoff Page’s Jazz sessions at the Gods Cafe. Valdis joked his way through an evening of excellent music. Neil’s riddle indicates the tone: “Why are pirates so dirty? … Because they arrrrrr.” Hmmm…

But the tunes were an interesting collection played thoughtfully and with considerable variation. About half the tunes were original (penned by both Neils and Michael) and several interpretations were solos or strongly featured one player. There was also a lovely breadth of styles. Mingus’ Jelly Roll was treated with the respect for, and knowledge of, history that the tune deserves. Contrasting with this was a funky acid jazz original by Michael which ended the show on a high. Non-originals included Some time ago, Wayne Shorter’s Deluge and Neil’s solo on Round midnight. Michael performed a solo rendition of Herbie Hancock’s Dolphin Dance with synth effects that harked back to Hancock’s rhythmic-rich bands, but also was free with time signatures so breaking from the normal interpretation. Neils put on show his freedom with harmonic treatment and wide intervals, his ability over the full range of the instrument, and his playfulness with strained high notes and honking low notes. Valdis played clear heads and inventive solos with that characteristic mixture of bell-like tone and honky blat that is the trombone - lovely! I also noticed the horns blending sweetly with clear and balanced harmonies, which I assume were improvised. Michael provided a strong, dense and often staccato support which propelled all this along, and sizzling solos when he had the floor.

So, perhaps the music was better than the humour, but, hey, you can’t have everything.