Pressing

Great to get back to the standards repertoire and the National Press Club. It's a venerable institution and the end-of-week jazz sessions are longstanding and a great pleasure with some of the best musicians in town. Tonight it was trumpet/flugel and piano with Ben Marston and John Black. Both longstanding musicians of high regard and considerable history. No charts that I noticed. Just comfy heads and varied accompaniments and intriguing solos. And no surprise to catch up with musician friends at this local, in this case my sax mate, Richard.

Ben Marston (trumpet, flugelhorn) played a duo set at the National Press Club with John Black (piano).

Showing age

It's the 50th anniversary of the building and the 27th year since I left. It's the National Library of Australia. It was my workplace for 6 years or so and we were invited to an evening for ex-staff members. So nibbles and drinks and some minor speeches and an opportunity to see old faces - increasingly and inevitably older. But for CJ just a pic of John Black playing piano standards on the Yamaha grand that resides in the NLA foyer. John never shows age. Nice if lost amongst the chatter and hubbub.

John Black played at a National Library reunion.

Curtailed in Curtin

It's the Christmas-NY period and Canberra is like a country town again ... like when I arrived 30years back. Lovely, if temporary. The down side is a lack of events happening. The audience is at the coast or visiting rellies and the remains, in town, are bereft and otherwise sleeping. We had visitors and I found some music at Beyond Q Bookshop, that strange, little venue that presumably gets free performers. No way they could pay. Whatever, John Black was there and he was a great pleasure, stride, easy feels, thoughtful improvs and clear melodies, even with a piano that's slightly suss. The adults are always the pleasures in this game, and John is just that; well experienced and mellow and every chord and every theme nicely voiced. A pleasure. Ellington, Basie, Django, Booker T, NOLA feels. Very nice. And before was renditions of the folk/singer-songwriter repertoire that we know so well from the '60s and '70s, mostly. Fred Pilcher played 12-string guitar, with vocals, with finger picking and capo, with talk of kazoo but I didn't hear one (did I?). Leonard Cohen, Bruce Cockburn ("at least as depressing") and a string of lighter tunes, not least a folk-humour take on Teddy Bears picnic. Nicely done and lots of memories but not so much my scene, this being being CJ after all. They may not have been paid too well, but this was a pleasant arvo in that singular basement that is Beyond Q.

John Black (piano) and Fred Pilcher (guitar, vocals) performed solo acts at the Beyond Q Bookstore.

Chalk & cheese

It was an afternoon of two different musics. Firstly, Tobias and Katie Cole and family at the High Court, singing religious song and modern. Then a Festival of Blues piano, with four of Canberra’s major blues pianists at the Brassey. How different!


The Coles gig was pure music sung mostly in high voices: soprano and countertenor (Tobias’ baritone in one song changed the effects markedly) and childrens’voices, mostly unaccompanied, although there were some instruments. I was intrigued by a violin walking pizz accompaniment on one. And there was an excerpt from the Magic flute played on glockenspiel with four recorders. The introduction was Britten carols spread overhead in the big space of the High Court foyer. This led to some Purcell including Sound the trumpet. There were a final few songs in front of the audience, three Island songs from Australian composer Stephen Leek: Monkey and turtle, Trade wind and Morning tide. But the most fascinating was kept till last. Tobias had the audience stand and split into four groups, learn a song, and perform as a conducted canon. Lots of fun and more active than usual. I was surprised by the audience’s decent intonation and memory for a relatively complex song. Well done to all of us ... and to the Coles.

Tobias Cole (countertenor, baritone), Katie Cole (soprano) and their three kids.


But then off to a darker space provided with beer and PA. Very different and more physical, at least for a few dancers. I just took a beer. Leo Joseph had organised a second Blues Piano festival, and this was it. Four great local pianists playing the blues: Wayne Kelly, John Black, Ross Buchanan and Leo himself. Now these are different stylists: Leo heavily into New Orleans, Dr John and the like; Ross all busy and virtuosic; John cool and capable from a lengthy professional career; Wayne authentically bluesy but letting in a touch of jazz chops. They mostly sang, too. I was particularly impressed by John’s calm and effective voice on tunes like Allelejuia I just love her so. Wayne sang Just a closer walk with thee with a strange key change for the vocals and with the heaviest, most authentic gospel piano. Fabulous. Ross wracked the piano with armfulls of notes, was it Billy Joel? Leo is just classy with his New Orleans presence, laid back groove, worthwhile lyrics, black and beret-arrayed. I was amused by John Black introducing a tune as “bulletproof”. Pianists need a few bulletproof tunes to play when requested at parties and such. As a bassist, I hadn’t considered this need. A few friends sat in – Juanita Cucinotta accompanying her singing with piano, and Lisa Pye – but it was really a day for the four, individually, in pairs, or even as a quartet avoiding stepping on each others’ toes, musically and literally as they swapped spots during songs. An amusing and bluesically worthwhile outing, the opportunity for a few beers and chatter and dancing, and they’ll be doing it again soon (Harmony German Club, 29 Nov, evening).

The pianists were Wayne Kelly, John Black, Ross Buchanan and Leo Joseph. Juanita Cucinotta and Lisa Pye sat in.

Some day, Sunday

It was a sunny and warm Sunday afternoon and Megan and I had just been to the flicks (the filmic adaption of Patrick White’s Eye of the storm: well done but a turgid tale of a rich warped family). We came out to find Annie Sloan playing a final few songs for the local imbibers. Annie’s a lively singer with nice ballads and a great audience manner. The backing was clean and open and comfortable with the changes: a duo of John Black on piano and Michael Lynch on bass. The last song was One Day I'll Fly Away as sung by Nicole Kidman on Moulin Rouge. I still have it going around in my head. And the sweet flavour of a very fruity dark ale. Nice way to spend a warm Sunday arvo.

Annie Sloan (vocals) sang with John Black (piano) and Michael Lynch (bass) on a warm Sunday afternoon at Charlie Black’s.

Black shoes, but who’s walking

Bah! Humbug! There’s a worrying trend for bands without bassists at present. Think Don Byron, but also John Black when he played a live broadcast for ArtSound last night. John played a boogie-woogie cum blues set with his trio called BlackSchu.

BlackSchu is a hip name, and easily misunderstood when heard, but it’s an obvious reference to the core pair in the band, pianist/vocalist John Black and drummer Ben Schumann. They met when playing in a busy local commercial outfit featuring two singers, Sweet Mischief, and still perform together for this bluesy gig. They like the music, it’s well received by everyone, and it can be “a real workout” as John said. So it must be for a pianist whose left hand takes the bass role, while his right hand is busy with melody, comping and soloing, relaxed only a little when he’s singing. It’s a big job for John, and he does it comfortably, with minimal fuss and considerable panache, and even a humourous patter between tunes. I was in the studio photographing and was lucky enough to catch a lovely solo on Angel Eyes. It cascaded over several octaves, but remained understated and constantly melodic. Obviously the work of a mature artist.

Their trio ring-in for this performance (and their recently recorded CD) is an old mate who’s now Sydney-based, tenor saxist Richard Booth. Richard is an ex-Canberran and a graduate of the Jazz School from the early 90s. Their CD is to be named “A touch of anarchy”. Apparently it’s Richard who brings that anarchy to the band, although listening to John’s chatter and witticisms, I think there’s just a little lurking elsewhere. Whatever, it’s a fine, satisfying, R&B outing that they present, with good humour and serious entertainment. The drums are sharp, busy at times, but not overwhelming. The sax is frequently melodic, often soloistic and touching on challenging for this style. But it can be supporting too, playing bass-like riffing roles at times.

So this bass-less gig was a nice, swinging affair from some very competent players with years of experience and playing a style that’s popular, danceable and even irresistible in the right environment. Shame about the bass, but maybe I needn’t be so concerned. After all, Ornette recently performed in Sydney with three bassists. Now that’s a band…

To the dancefloor

My other band is Crisp. Crisp is a five-piece jazz cum kitsch/pop/disco band which plays weddings, corporate events and the like. It’s been around a good while, but I’ve recently joined. It’s a bunch of capable musicians with considerable experience fronted by a singer with a nice turn of spirit, so the music is tight and the outings are enjoyable. And this is just accentuated by the pop/disco tunes that go down so well on the dancefloor. Crisp played last week at the National Museum. Nothing special about that, but it was memorable for some other reasons.

Firstly, because an engaging, amusing, but deadly serious character was speaking: Patch Adams. Patch Adams is an “American medical doctor, social activist, citizen diplomat, professional clown, performer, and author ... he believes the health of an individual cannot be separated from the health of the family, community, and the world” (Wikipedia, 23 May 2008). He’s also a celebrity to a broader community since Robin Williams, the US comedian, starred in a film about him. At first sight, he was a mature, moustachioed and pony-tailed bloke in colourful clothing. I noted a quick wit and non-conformist streak when he was introduced. He quipped that he’d been at Parliament during the day and that the government had given an apology but he’d given the country back. As is my celebrity-ignoring and film-avoiding way, I vaguely knew the name but nothing more. The band only caught the last few minutes of his talk, but it was serious and heartfelt and impressive. Visiting someone else’s world (a family at a wedding, a doctor’s community, or whatever) is an aspect of performing bands that I love. My favourite story of this type involved playing for Rupert Murdoch at his Cavan property near Canberra many years back, but I’ve told that story before on CJ.

Secondly, our normal pianist was travelling, so I got to play with John Black, now a high school music teacher, and for many years a piano teacher at the Jazz School. Of course, he knew the charts including the pop tunes, he could read with aplomb, and his solos were both expressive and tastefully understated. There’s great pleasure in playing with musos who’ve had this level of experience. My first Crisp gig had Mark Sutton sitting in for a wedding and this was similarly satisfying.

More on Crisp when we do a public gig, but here’s the membership: Nicky King (vocals), James Hoogstad (tenor), Peter Kirkup (piano), Mick Schow (drums), Eric Pozza (bass). John Black (piano) sat in for this performance.

Patch Adams on Wikipedia