Great way to travel

We had London visitors last night at Hippo when Duncan Eagles and Max Luthert visited and played with some of our locals. London seems a mythical distant place at times and Duncan spoke with a lovely accent that reminds you of other places. But the language of jazz is universal, so it’s no surprise that the conversation on the night was capable and pleasing and the tunes mostly recognisable. Apparently, Duncan had met Bruce Hancock, head of jazz studies at Adelaide’s Elder Conservatorium, when he was visiting London. Bruce invited Duncan to Australia and helped him find players for his visit to Adelaide although I’m not sure who they played with there. The travellers also visited Melbourne where they played with Ben Vanderwaal and heard local masters Sam Anning and Jamie Oehlers. Hereabouts, CJ helped them to find a double bass to borrow (thanks to Simon Daly at the Violin Shop) and players to perform with. They are off to Sydney next, not to play but to absorb the scene. The essence of good travel is to meet the locals, so jazz tourism like this is a great way to travel. They were enjoying it, and were talking of the next time.

The visitors teamed with Wayne Kelly and Sam Young on the night. They started with Softly as the morning sunrise, then Sam River’s Beatrice, so it was looking to be a comfortable evening. Duncan warmed up over the night to play with passion and a great fat tone on his black and gold tenor. Earlier on, he seemed more restrained, but later he turned to flurries and screams. He also picked up soprano for one or two tunes; these more melodic rather than extravagant exploits. Max was in the know, so set the stage for new tunes. He played a few solos, but concentrated on his support role of walking and other lines. Wayne started from the top with rich harmonies and constantly changing improvisations to glances of approval from the visitors. Sam played with comfort and reliability, but also with considerable authority. I especially noticed very clear statements in fours as they were passed around the band, but he was confident enough to leave space behind heads and elsewhere. Otherwise, it was ballads, bebop, bossa. Wayne looked very concentrated on a few tunes – perhaps originals or otherwise lesser known. Similarly, Sam was sometimes reading accents, but other times relaxed and just grooving. In all, it was a satisfying evening of mainstream/modern playing.

Londoners Duncan Eagles (tenor, soprano sax) and Max Luthert (bass) played with Wayne Kelly (piano) and Sam Young (drums).

Duncan Eagles'website

CJGroup on Facebook

CJ now has a group on Facebook. This is a place for the Canberra Jazz community to gather, share ideas, news and the rest. Find fellow players or followers of jazz. Keep in touch with those names you used to know. Find new friends with similar interests.

Follow the link to "Group (Facebook)" in the menu on the CJ home page, or otherwise search for the group "Canberra Jazz" in Facebook.

You have to be a Facebook member, so you may need to join. But do take part ... the community's growing strongly with 85 members as I write this, including outposts in Finland and London. Join up now.

Old friends

It’s getting so that Miro’s and John’s bands are becoming like old friends or family. You recognise the tunes and the performance styles are established. When they play with different people or arrangements, you can listen for the interpretations that change, and that’s a real fascination. It’s leaning to classical music, where all the notes are written, so the interpretation is even more subtle. In the case of jazz, the melody and groove will be set, but even they are twisted in interpretation on the night, and the improvisations are much more varied.

Miro’s quintet played the other night at the Band Room at the Jazz School. It’s a nice location: quiet, interested, a listening audience, lots of like-minded attendees, and you can get a beer in the breaks. Miro, of course, was leading and provided several of the tunes, mostly well known ones from the Wanderlust songbook. John also provided several tunes which I recognised from his CD, Pantano Drive. But what especially interested me were the different approaches and tonalities and interpretations of this band as against, say, Wanderlust. Wayne was far more Tyner-ish than is Alister Spence. Mark was less latin than Fabian Hevia. Not better or worse but quite different. And the sound of woodwind in place of brass as a second instrument was also a change from Wanderlust. So the tunes are the same, but the experience is different. For covers, they performed Joe Henderson’s Afrocentric and Zawinul’s Directions (apparently claimed by Miles, as was Bill Evans’ Blue in Green). Miro also led a wonderful ballad called “Peace please”: quite beautiful, and dedicated this night as a “hymn for our time”.

To note was an alto solo by John. I don’t remember hearing him on alto before. Chris continues to impress, including with that walk on Pantano Drive at breakneck speed, and some modern, syncopated bass lines on other tunes. I also noted some powerful montuno playing by Wayne that just grabbed the band and drove it. It’s not something I’d noticed in his playing before. And there’s news about Wayne: he’s off to Macao to play the casinos in a few weeks. Good pay, good conditions. We’ll miss his playing around town, but should be a great opportunity. Best of luck from CJ.

It was a terrific night, with the infectious melodies we know from Miro, and great playing in a style more than usually reminiscent of that heady period of the early 60s. At least for the next few weeks, the Miroslav Bukovsky Ensemble comprises: Miroslav Bukovsky (trumpet), John Mackey (tenor, alto sax), Wayne Kelly (piano), Chris Pound (bass) and Mark Sutton (drums).

Alpha to Omega

Alpha is for the soft and lyrical ballads, played with acoustic tones and cut times. Omega is for the breaks into frequent cacophonies and occasional free jazz which were often such vivid developments on the alpha themes. Three omegas is for the three amigos, mates, that got together to play this music that was such a unique mix of bitter and sweet.

To me, the Three omegas played a deceptive set: unexpected and unusual in its approach and intent. David plays with a sharp, tangy, unadorned overtone-rich sound on his semiacoustic. We expect sweet, Django, and we get some lovely ballads played with lyrical interpretations, and with a level of soloistic shape which a guitarist friend was raving about. Similarly with the others. Mike is also clear and sharp in his tone, and can be melodic in his bass playing, and James had a tonality that I loved on a large snare and a deep floor tom that sounded as if he fell into the skin. There were some pure melodic solos from David and Mike, but, then, gradually, all this melody devolved into cacophony; growing, growling, held at a level of extreme tension for some minutes. I didn’t time it, but this was not restrained! This was full descent into abyss stuff. Bass and guitar strumming, with form delivered from tripletted drums which may have been solo, may have been structured, or may have just been there. But it gave some stability until the band gradually returned to order, to better understood vistas. This was the first time, but the night continued thus. Pretty melodies, sweet tunes, devilish cacophonies, occasional free play, tunes again... And other than one standard (Django’s “Castles of my dreams”), these tunes were compositions by the band. Not surprising.

It was an interesting conception: an unusual one and very engrossing. Sets moving over extremes of tension: alternatively sweet or tense, always protracted. Here pure, sweet melodies; there descents to madness and excess. The show had this changing shape of one to the other, almost unnoticed until it was on you. Nice one.

The Three omegas are David deVries (guitar), Mike Majkowski (bass) and James 'pug' Waples (drums).

Choosing between gods

I had to make a choice last night. Was it jazz at the Gods with Bob Bertles? Truly that was something I rued missing. But the other god was better known, I’d booked months back, and I couldn’t stand my wife up, so “Keating! the musical” it was. I missed a visit to Sydney’s El Rocco of the 50s, but I caught a fabulously entertaining musical ride through 90s current affairs. You’d have to have been there (the 90s, that is) to really enjoy it. But for those with an eye for politics (I have), and doubly so for those with despair during the Howard years (me again), it was a night of frequent and satisfying belly laughs.

The show started with a five piece band on stage, playing the Beatles’ tune, Glass onion. Glass onion has the quote “the walrus was Paul”, so we’re on track from the start. The band was relaxed and obviously enjoying themselves, so looking good. Bob Hawke started the show, and various snippets of the history of the Keating years followed: the promised handover, the rolling of Hawke, the defeat of Hewson in ’93, the Gareth and Cheryl romance, right up to Keating’s defeat by Howard in ’96, although strangely this was portrayed with historical revisionism as a loss for Howard. There were memorable quotes that popped into the capable, theatrical singing. The “banana republic” had its own song, but I missed “the recession we had to have”. But “do you slowly”, “things that batter”, “light on the hill”, “it’s time” and many others made appearances. The whole show was a series of songs in various popular styles: mambo for Mabo; disco for an outrageous Rocky Horror Downer scene; a fabulous rap battle between Hewson and a verbally triumphant Keating. The music was varied, and the band performed it with comfort and occasional changes of instruments: guitar/alto sax; electric/double bass; piano/accordion; and even some acting and singing roles. Keyboardist Gareth making out with guitarist-with-blonde-wig Cheryl was amusing (“My heart’s in peril, Cheryl … Heavens, Mr Evans”). There were even a few (very few) slightly poignant moments. The final Keating ode to a bright and brilliant future lost to a Howardian past of relaxed suburban comfort was the closest to tragedy for the night. But I couldn’t bring myself to laugh at the truly withering scene of Howard as a small, embittered man with militaristic tendencies, accompanied by a warriors’ march.

Megan wondered if there could be a similar creation for Howard. We decided it was unlikely. Keating was so colourful, leaving aside a large potential audience of sympathetic arts-loving theatre-goers. I couldn’t imagine the battlers at “Howard! the glory years” sometime in the future (perhaps a sitcom on commercial TV?). But maybe it’s just too recent, and the wounds are too raw. A few years of Rudd may have us thinking differently.

I loved the music, the humour, the lighting. Great show. See it if you can, at least if you’re old enough to remember the period. It’s a hit for good reason. In the meantime, check out the summary of the show on Wikipedia.

Keating! the musical on Wikipedia

Sonny ... your comments

I didn't get to Sydney for the Sonny Rollins concert, but I know others who did. Tell us how you found it. Just add your comments below.

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

Stop press: Sally wins

Congrats to Sally Greenaway who won the inaugural National Big Band Composition competition with her chart "Falling of seasons". Well done, Sally! For more info, see my earlier post, or this site under the tab NBBCC: http://www.mothershiporchestra.com/

Ivey Divey (Sat 2)

Oh my god. I just heard Don Byron’s Ivey Divey trio.

From the top, these guys seemed something from beyond. They snaked through the awaiting audience in the foyer of the Street Theatre just 10 minutes before the gig, moving towards backstage. I was assured they’d been warming up throughout the day, but this was impressively nonchalant. Three snappy dressers: casual, with a beat mix of earth colours, fashionable glasses (they all three wore glasses) and slouching caps. Comfortable, with an air of intelligent commitment but hip alternatives. George Colligan’s bearded chin is fashionable these days, but did nothing but confirm a fifties, Krebsian reference. Don later chatted of the cartoon strip, L’il Abner and distant university romances, so reminiscences of the past, of the fifties, beatniks and even Maynard G, seem appropriate.

The true masters of an art are in some ways, almost beyond comprehension in their statements, but in other ways they make it all seem simple and self-evident. I felt both these emotions with this trio. I could understand Don’s playing on various horns - he played mostly clarinet, a good dose of a very silver tenor sax, and one tune of a squeaking bass clarinet which he explained didn’t survive the long flight to Australia at all well. At base, as Megan observed, there were arpeggios and scales, taken to high levels of complexity. Of course it was, and it always is, but it was also investigatory and intelligently dissecting or even disinterring the harmonies to reveal fellow-travelling patterns and movements and sounds. This is not a field for simple, stated melodies, although melodies are there and rich. This is a walk in a field on a black night revealed under a searing light of knowledge and intelligence.

I was particularly taken, or should I say dumbfounded (gobsmacked, to borrow that US-derived term now so popular), by George Colligan and his pianistic endeavours. I knew the name, and it’s well respected: for good reason. This was an avalanche of stylistic references and manual dexterity: an ability to establish a musical context and follow it without limitation of skills or intent. Again, intelligence comes to mind. These guys are educators, GC at Julliard, so they know their stuff. But they play it too. There’s reverence and expression of history here, but also interpretation and reinvigoration. This is not just replaying, but revisiting and renewing an older tradition, or perhaps it’s better to say these guys are part of a continuing history. The night was dubbed a tribute to Lester Young. Don spoke at one time about Lester Young making a link between instruments and voice, and this was his intention. So this was the nature of the tribute, but the palette was the history of jazz; far broader than just one man.

Back to George. His solos were an extravanza, and that’s where I most felt the evening take off. Rudy Royston played some delightful solos, played brushes often, intoned sensitively and sweetly on the drums, but the temperature really lifted in synch with George’s solos. This was intensity over a broad spectrum,white light on the crevices of the underlying tunes. Just two guys (remember, no bass) creating a storm.

So what of this? I just thought this must be New York: a competitive, busy place, a need to impress and a drawcard for capability. But I’ve heard other New Yorkers visiting here and elsewhere, and this was something else. There was a depth of history and respect, and a profundity of knowledge that you don’t encounter too often. Perhaps Wynton Marsalis when he visited, but I didn’t feel this intensity on that night. Admittedly, the Street Theatre is more intimate, but this was special. So off to NY? Not cheap! The guy next to us volunteered this would have been two sets, each individually charged, in a NY club. Big, city; big expense.

But Canberra had our visit, and it was both profound and a blast. And we gave it our standard treatment: a lovely theatre, an involved audience, and an ArtSound recording. Chris, when can we expect to revisit this fabulous night? I’m hanging out for more.

Canberra cantata (Sat 1)

First of a double bill for this Saturday was the Canberra Cantata. It’s a new work in cabaret style. Not a serious, staid cantata with glorious rising choral work, but a joyful, tongue in cheek look at Canberra from a local cabaret star, and featuring some well-known local names. Peter J Casey was the composer and presenter, and a pianist and singer for several tunes. The other performers ranged widely indeed.

The show started with the Royal Military College (acronym: RMC) All Stars Big Band and continued with 13 tunes played by a rich range of artists. The Canberra Youth Choir sang a tune composed to the words of a local primary school student, Keean Walton, a paen to Canberra life called “I love where I live”. Natalie Magee teamed with Peter J Casey and the RMC band for a skit on Northside/Southside rivalries. The Singing Ambassadors (as far as I know, these were 12 real, honest ambassadors) sang about their appointments to Canberra in a song called “Tiger look at this”. They obviously enjoyed their unison singalong, and carried it off with aplomb. A classical trio (Suzanne Powell, piano; Anne Ewing, cello; Nicole Canham, clarinet) played the “Roundabout rondo”, dedicated to roundabouts on Canberra roads: nice one. The Gay and Lesbian Qwuire sang a deliciously beautiful love song written for same-sex marriages called “For all of us”. The RMC Band played a rousing big band tune with shouts of Canberra acronyms, appropriately called “TLA” (=Three Letter Acronym). John Shortis and Moya Simpson performed a tune dedicated to “Stasia the Soup Lady”, an institution in Canberra for many years. Lucy Bermingham, Moya Simpson and classical soprano Louise Page jokingly sang “Don’t make me choose” (between the Brumbies and the Raiders). Peter J Casey himself sang a tune about writing and performing the cantata, complete with a topical reference. Louise Page teamed again with Suzanne Powell and Nicole Canham on a tender piece (“Beautiful”) that spoke of the cockies that appeared in Canberra after the fires of a few years back. Four names were memorialised (Alison, Peter, Douglas, Dorothy), presumably the four lost in our local disaster. More happily, Queenie Van de Zandt sang with the RMC band about Canberrans making their names overseas but returning (We move back home). The show ended with a lively bash from the Big Band, with a string of solos, including Reuben Lewis who was sitting in on trumpet, and a wonderful, rolling drum solo from Amanda Waite, who I reported playing with Zip in my first post on CJBlog.

The other star of the show was the Llewelyn Hall. It’s been refurbished after a lengthy repair and restoration following a damaging hailstorm over a year ago. The new hall is decked with soft timbers and raked seating, to give improved wood infected acoustic and better audience ambience. It sounded rich and sweet to me, although there was a good bit obviously passing through the PA on the day. Being free and part of the Canberra International Music Festival, it was well attended by families young and old, again typically Canberran. I had a nursing mother on one side with a cute 12 week old girl and a toddler behind me continuingly observing the bebe (=baby), bebe, bebe, bebe…. A very pleasant event, and an opportunity to hear these singers and musicians I miss in the core jazz scene. Much enjoyed.

Break a leg, Sally

Sorry for the late notice, but here's a broadcast to check out this weekend. Sally Greenaway will be conducting the JazzGroove Mothership Orchestra on ABCFM this Sunday. In Sally's words:

"The Mothership Orchestra and APRA got together and created a big band composition competition (which will become a yearly event). The comp was open to Australian and New Zealand residents aged between 18-42 yrs. As far as I'm aware, I am the only girl, and the youngest finalist in the competition. Two of the other finalists are lecturers (one at the Tasmanian conservatorium and the other New Zealand Conservatorium), and the third one is a guy from the QLD con. So I'm up against some stiff competition!

I spent 3 months writing and rewriting and revising this piece ["Falling of Seasons"], but there is still a lot of work for me to do ... I am so thrilled to bits that I get this chance!

I will ... direct a short 1 hour rehearsal with them [on Sat 17 May] and then Sunday 18 May at 5pm I will be conducting them at the Finals Concert at the Eugene Goossens Hall (the concert is open to the public) and this will be broadcast live on ABC Classic FM's Jazz Track with Mal Stanley (this live broadcast also starts at 5pm)..."

To find out more about the competition, visit www.mothershiporchestra.com

Masterly & with integrity

By Daniel Wild

I have had the pleasure of seeing Gerard Masters three times now. A few years ago at the Winebanq in Sydney he accompanied Chico Freeman in what became a coming of age gig, although even then there wasn’t much room for improvement. I also saw him as part of SIMA’s program at the Sound Lounge in the Seymour centre. Inexplicably there were only about ten people present. This certainly affected the intensity of his playing. Masters thrives on intensity, atmosphere and occasion.

The Hippo Bar makes up for the lack of a piano with ambience, closeness and an underground feel (despite it being upstairs). Carl Dewhurst exploited this intimacy by opening with a solo set of experimental and blues guitar. The Hippo is an ideal venue for short solo performances. It is relaxed and allowed Dewhurst to play with the audience dynamic by sometimes musing in the background and then building up his presence with more adventurous guitar riffs.

One piece was decidedly atonal and freeform, making it initially hard listening. But it grew on you and when it finished the listener had begun to adjust to its parameters. Dewhurst made use of an array of pedal effects for this composition. He certainly enjoyed exploring the distorting, bending, shimmering permutations of the strange chords and their relationships. This music is sometimes more safely performed in the privacy of the musician’s home.

Dewhurst finished with a straight ahead blues that became increasingly rhythmically varied and witty. Gerard Masters, who had been watching from various vantage points, appeared after a brief break and began heating things up with Stockton Shuffle. The head has an interesting rhythm and explores minor tonalities before a three beat rhythm asserts itself for Masters’ solo. Evan Manell provides exciting support as Masters builds his ideas patiently, inviting the listener to share in the unfolding harmonic possibilities and melodic fragments that could go down various pathways.

The second piece, Pendulum, borrowed a motif from Chopin’s Nocturne in A flat major. Masters ingeniously incorporates this light, faery motif as a frame around a daring post bop middle section. The original Chopin Nocturne also had an emotionally charged and harmonically challenging B section and Masters expands the romantic depths with some inspiring descents and parallel chromatic chords that define dark and moody tonal centres. Tonality is less important here – it is implied and not stated and engulfed by neighbouring chords which pull and shift the tonality like a gravity-well.

A slower, more relaxed pace, suited for visions looking forward to the horizon and back upon reminiscences, is the setting for Message to My Girl, dedicated to the band’s better halves. The incorporation of classical elements, fourths and rock riffs makes this an accessible trio piece. The Keith Jarrett influence can be seen and again Masters shows admirable patience in building his solo both in volume and intensity. He never overplays and displays his sensitivity and integrity to context. Masters passes the litmus test of the complete pianist by playing thoughtfully and introspectively in this ballad. Many other jazz players who are known for their chops don’t execute as well on ballads.

Cameron Undy’s bass playing is perfect and unobtrusive. The trio complement each other well but both Manell and Undy must be commended for ably supporting Masters’ musical aesthetic. Carl Dewhurst introduced Masters as one of “Australia’s and the world’s best pianists”. I second that. If you are a fringe dweller of jazz, or someone who appreciates classy adventurous playing you have to see a Gerard Masters gig. He is still young and could well be Australia’s answer to Chick Corea, Brad Meldhau and other modern jazz pianists willing to push the envelope and not compromise on musical integrity. Masters’ incorporation of classical riffs, blues, rich harmonies and singing and soaring melodic lines may well convert people indifferent to jazz to this modern and thoughtful music.

Pics coming soon, with any luck

Two can with mates

Toucani (my old Trio Toucan with a sax) played a few sets with some friends for a birthday bash at the Soul Bar. It’s a lively place at 5.30 on a Friday, just after work, so quite fun, although I don’t recommend it to musos who want to earn a few pennies. It was a favour for a friend who was celebrating a birthday bash there, so that was OK, but you can easily feel a sucker.

The friend was Tony, and he sat in for a few tunes on trumpet. Nice to hear some horn harmonies on the very common tunes we played with him: Song for my father, All blues and Tenor madness. Toucani had started the night with a set of mainly originals. We’ve decided to make something a bit fresh, so I’ve penned a few latin originals and Daniel is being prolific with weekly new tunes in a modern post-bop style; good hard swing. Brenton has one on appro, and we’re waiting! Anyway, we’re pretty happy with them, and now they take most of our sets. A venue with busy and noisy drinkers gives an easier and more relaxed performance. We played well, the punters gave the requisite applause, and we managed some (moderately) indulgent solos, so all was well.

The final set was with other mates, two vocalists who perform as Ancient Mariners, Brad and Leanne. Their tunes are mostly jazz standards, but done in a cabaret, rather than as jazz, style. Both are competent singers; Leanne is particularly confident and poised. It’s always a pleasure backing competent vocalists, and you notice the difference voice makes in the responsiveness of the crowd. So, overall a much enjoyed evening.

Toucani are John Baczynski (tenor), Daniel Wild (piano), Brenton Holmes (drums) and Eric Pozza (bass). Tony Edwards (trumpet) sat in for his birthday bash. Toucani backed the Ancient Mariners, who are Leanne Dempsey (vocals) and Brad McDonald (vocals).

Post-bop perfection

Jon Gordon appeared with a student jazz ensemble at the Band Room last night. This was just the last of three nights of great concerts. (I think I need triage after this triad of concerts over a trio of days). Jon Gordon was not a name I knew of, but a history with Maria Schneider’s Orchestra and Harry Connick Jr and a provenance of New York were enough to interest me. Then there’s a rave quote from Phil Woods, a doyen of post-Bird altoists, who seems to pass the mantle to Jon. ‘Nuff said; much expected. And much gained.

Jon played a mainstream set of standards and a few tunes I didn’t recognise, perhaps originals. The standards were old friends: There will never be another you, Invitation, Skylark, Tenor madness, Infant eyes, Softly as the morning sunrise. He played these with respect but malleable interpretations, freely bending and delaying and moving the melody lines, and blowing with chromatic freedom over the charts. This was flexibility and harmonic freedom within the tight constraints of the post-bop style: sustained, lengthy, 8th-note lines moving in and out of the base harmony at will. Not ecstatic wails; more ordered, very challenging, sinuous, classic lines. It was a pleasure to hear such control and skill over the whole range of the alto, with honks shortly preceding high pitched but always defined notes. It was a masterly performance of classy, intelligent harmonic play.

Jon was backed by some of the most capable students currently at the Jazz School. The evening started with a trio format. Ed Rodrigues played his heartfelt, engrossed drumming style, with Chris Pound rock steady on bass. Dave Rodriguez joined later on guitar. Dave and Ed play regularly together and their complementary responsiveness was obvious, as Dave played simple but mellifluous solos which Ed responded to with clear affinity. Joe Lloyd joined later for some capable and differently styled alto. It was interesting to hear two altos together, rather than adding brass or a tenor. The tones of the two instruments were widely different, as was the playing. I heard Joe’s alto as thinner, toppier, more emotional, and his style as more post-Shorter, passionate in style. Jon was of a classic school: a rounded, middy tone and a more cerebral and calmer approach. No judgemental comparisons here (although I have to recognise Jon’s mastery, of course): these are stylistic differences, and the presence of the two altoists just highlighted the distinctions.

After several days of excellent concerts, I need a few days rest. These have been fabulous performances of markedly different styles, culminating with Jon Gordon’s intelligent, stylistic perfection. But never too much of a good thing.

Jon Gordon (alto sax) played with a student ensemble of Ed Rodriguez (drums), Chris Pound (bass), Dave Rodrigues (guitar) and Joe Lloyd (alto sax).