Hear words

I forget often enough, but it comes back with an avalanche when I hear standards sung, especially when they are sung well. Standards are mostly songs of a era of great wit and informed songwriting and they speak truth although none too directly. They are clever and immensely satisfying. They can be that often enough with a bop take that explores their harmonic structure and perhaps, but not necessarily, their melodies. That is good and clever and can be satisfying, if in an intellectual way. Nothing wrong with that, but the intellectual whimsy and emotional depth of one of these songs sung is something else, even something more. I caught Sally Marett and Lachlan Coventry performing at Fenway Public House, a new venue for jazz on Tuesday nights, in the heart of Woden shops. It's a modern venue, with big screens and complex arrangements of drinking and eating areas. My beer was good. I could even watch Sally and Lachlan on a big screen, perhaps seeing the better that way than on a contrastily lit stage. These two are always committed and expert in their delivery, guitar and voice and solo guitar in between. Sally tells me that Hugh Barrett appears with her on alternate weeks. He's a deeply satisfying pianist, so another opportunity. The tunes were variously known and slightly lesser know, from Love for sale and Our love is here to stay, through Cheek to cheek and Just the two of us to Spring can really hang you up the most and Miss Celie's blues. All known to the ear but not necessarily first-called tunes. They were gloriously performed to experience their contrasting deep and playful purposes. I could only melt to this stuff. Hear words.

Sally Marett (vocals) and Lachlan Coventry (guitar) performed at Fenway Public House.

The unexpected

We had Friday evening off and that's National Press Club jazz evening. The unexpected was that Sally was playing with Lachlan rather than Brendan. Nothing unpleasant, these being consummate players, just unexpected. Somewhat different, too, being vocals&guitar rather than the unusual combination of vocals&bass. Lachlan does a good line in bass, too, so there was bass awareness accompanied by the more evident harmonics of the guitar. [Excuse the digression, but Beethoven himself said: “The guitar is a miniature orchestra in itself”.] The tunes were much the same, deliriously lovely and often-enough somewhat touching. The songs of the American songbook are like that: discrete but straight to the heart and mostly of the heart. Nothing unexpected: Softly, Paper moon, Witchcraft, Our love is here to stay and the like; transposed. Unexpected but no surprise and just lovely.

Sally Marett (vocals) performed with Lachlan Coventry (guitar) at the National Press Club.

Pairings

I was interested not just because they are two musicians I admire, but because of the unique musical pairing. I recently played a piano/bass duo. That's common enough and very satisfying with its spacious opportunities. But I doubt I've ever heard a vocals/bass duo. No (or very few) chords; a limited source of rhythm; open, even sparse sound. It worked a treat. I never doubted it would with these two but I did wonder how effective ti would be. Sally superbly states her melody, bends and embellishes and manipulates it, toys with it as improv and more widely is just superbly clear in intent amidst whatever complexity. Brendan spells out the most solid of rhythms with endless skips and harmonic vibrancy, playing into the thumb positions, but mostly steady and solid lower down, moving though chords but never querying harmony (at least not unintentionally), richly busy and inventive, and often enough throwing in some chords (although they don't work quite like midrangey and more chord-able piano or guitar) . So this was an unusual combination but never without interest and authenticity and always convincing. They were playing the standards: the very common blowing tunes but also some darlings like Come rain or shine, The very though of you and Old devil moon or the superb and demanding Nature boy. The standards repertoire is witty in music and lyrics and frequently romantic. Sally touched on this when mentioning that they are a married couple and that to play this gig was quite lovely. And it was. Fabulous music from an unusual combination that worked a treat.

Sally Marett (vocals) and Brendan Clarke (bass) performed at the National Press Club.

Morning tea time

I would think it would have been nerve-wracking. Sally and Brendan and John and Greg are great musicians and I guess they've been through it before. This was a mid-morning concert for a bunch of retirees and later who get together weekly to listen to and discuss jazz. So not a club atmosphere. Four up front and a several rows of seated, peering eyes and often-enough wilted ears. But it was great and it was wonderfully received. They played mostly American songbook with voice and two instrumentals from the standards repertoire. There was a threat (and a request) to play Giant steps, but perhaps too early in the day (John was keen). But none-the-less this was great music with a modern edge and some fabulous playing. Brendan blows me out always; so do Greg and John, of course. Greg was playing a semi-acoustic at virtually acoustic volume, so earthy. John was slithering through whatever he played and with the most detailed and intriguing lines. I've just heard Sally once before, again with this repertoire. What a nice, controlled, firm voice! Fabulous. [Same goes for her pop tunes. Check them out on YouTube or Spotify and share widely. Search Marét Vertigo or Maret Perfectly imperfect. They are catchy, wonderfully confident and with great videos]. The tunes this day were jazz: All the things and Old devil moon, and Paper moon and Little tear and Witchcraft and Body and soul and a few others. Interpreted with personality and emotion; embellished with lithe sax; soloed by all; underlaid with the most firm and swinging and interesting bass. Best morning tea gig I've heard for some time!

Sally Marett (vocals), John Mackey (tenor), Greg Stott (guitar) and Brendan Clarke (bass) performed a morning tea-time concert for the U3A Jazz Appreciation Society.

Why every band needs a singer

I've said it before and I felt it again at this gig. Sally Marett was playing with the cream of our local players, Brendan Clarke, Hugh Barrett and Mark Sutton. John Mackey sat in for a few tunes, too. We could expect some incredibly capable and interesting playing and we got it. But beyond that, this was alive with the words of tunes we've all played from fake books knowing just the first line or so. These were songs not tunes. They were all standards, from the renowned American songbook, the popular music of the films and mid-20th Century US. We reel in response to some lyrics that sound so inane and yet there's depth and humour and subtly here. Rhymes, maybe, but we've learned that rhymes can express: no less than current uber-popular rap does that. The movies seemed all straight with defined roles and the rest, but there was depth expressed. I think of Romeo and Juliet as Maria and Tony but that's just my fave. "Beautiful love / what have you done to me"; "It's only a canvas sky / hanging over a muslin tree / but it wouldn't be make-believe if you believed in me"; "Flamin' with all the glow of sunrise / burning kiss is sealing / the vow that all betray". Words and themes the musos don't know. And the contact with audience that a singer creates. Words and thoughts are passions and immediacy. Far more than the indistinct, uncertain noises that are instrumental music. Not to put that down, but it's not so immediate, so shared, so understood. Play with a singer and experience the difference. Your playing is immediately just support, for the singer, the story and the emotions. Suffice to say I like that. Of course, Sally did a truly excellent job, up front, entertaining, great voice and contact. Of course, the band did a similarly excellent job, fabulously inventive and capable and quick and responsive and on top of it all, responding to each other and Sally. John sat in and did wonders, flourishing widely and busily and ingeniously on Softly. So all round, this was a massive treat. I sat with a smile on my face throughout. Sally mentioned the arts scene in Canberra as busy and satisfying. That night was just a dazzling example. Playful, fun, ruefully true in its period lyrics, a blowout and truly excellent entertainment.

Sally Marett (vocals) led her band comprising Hugh Barrett (piano), Brendan Clarke (bass) and Mark Sutton (drums). John Mackey (tenor) sat in for a few tunes.