Bourbon blues on the street

It's Carnaval time, as Facebook is kindly reminding me with events I can't attend. This means that Tuesday, the 21st, is Mardi Gras, and to celebrate it, I'm organizing a Mardi Gras party with the Kalmunity Vibe Collective at Les Bobards. We're taking classic New Orleans funk and soul tunes from the Meters, Lee Dorsey, and the Wild Magnolias, among others, and running it through the Kalmunity filter of improvisation with poets, MCs, vocalists and fantastic musicians.

This isn't just a way to tie into the festivities (although it helps) - New Orleans music has been a highly important part of my life. My parents would tune into the "oldies" stations that fed me a steady diet of Fats Domino and Little Richard, recordings I loved long before I was aware of their New Orleans connections. My first exposure to jazz was Louis Armstrong, and a compilation that included some more overt New Orleans references ("Skokiaan" and "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?") as well as "Hello Dolly." It was in high school when a classmate turned me onto the Meters that I became more explicitly aware of the phenomenal New Orleans R&B tradition. The "jamband" scene of the late '90s and early '00s paid frequent homage to New Orleans funk, with Galactic leading the charge of reviving that music in the younger generations' consciousness, and various other bands inviting the Dirty Dozen and Rebirth horns as guests.

The real lynchpin was the web-radio station Radio Free New Orleans; that was where I discovered a whole swath of the rich musical heritage of the Crescent City. Every day of the week was a different theme: Wednesdays were New Orleans Rock 'n' Roll, Saturdays were Piano Day, and Sundays were devoted to gospel. The unnamed programmers were responsible for exposing me to Professor Longhair, James Booker, Louis Moreau Gottschalk, and Earl Palmer's phenomenal "in-the-cracks" drumming.

It's been a real privilege to dive into this music, which I've rarely heard played in Montreal (outside of "Cissy Strut"). For me, it's paying respect to truly formative music in my life. On a purely technical level, Stanton Moore's clinics and books have redefined my rhythmic sensibilities. Getting to witness Allen Toussaint work his magic in the intimacy of Gesù is a concert experience I won't soon forget. The goal is not just to throw a hell of a party, but to pay the influence of this music forward.

The line-up for Tuesday's Kalmunity Mardi Gras party:
Fredy V, Odessa "Queen" Thornhill, Jjanice - vocals
Jason "Blackbird" Selman - trumpet/poetry
Vincent Stephen-Ong - alto sax
Alexandre Dion - tenor sax
Christopher Cargnello - guitar
David Ryshpan - keyboards
Mark Haynes - bass
Jahsun - drums

Teach them now and let them lead the way

I had a couple of very affirming moments last week concerning the future of music - jazz music and all music (and no, not just because Adele swept the Grammys and Bon Iver is this year's Esperanza-style upset).

The first was at Katie Malloch's sendoff concert at Lion D'Or. Peter Hum has a much more thorough review. (I would add trombonist/arranger Christopher Smith and guitarist Gary Schwartz to Hum's roll call of musicians present at the show.) The music was top-notch, and reminded me of when I was still studying at McGill and heard André White, Kevin Dean, et al with regularity. It was totally swinging, with an authoritative command of the bebop and post-bop language that made it sound real, not affected. There were a couple of moments where altoist P.J. Perry's over-articulated eighth notes were a little too mannered for my taste, but in all it was a moment of celebrating the tradition. It was truly fantastic to remember that all jazz - indeed, all music - thrives in a community. There is an intangible, indescribable sense of belonging that occurs when I see all generations of musicians hanging, listening, and enjoying.

The second was a pleasant surprise before Stephen Johnston's hit at Upstairs, the following night. I headed straight to the club after teaching and was greeted by McGill students showcasing their combos in the matinee slot. Back in my day, we got to headline Upstairs on Mondays and Tuesdays. The first combo appeared to be first and second year students, firmly getting a grasp on their vocabulary on Improv class staples like Joe Henderson's "Serenity," but they also included White's contrafact on "Along Came Betty." The second student group floored me. Playing without sheet music or music stands, they delved headlong into band-arranged deconstructions of the Beach Boys' "God Only Knows," Led Zeppelin's "The Ocean," and Lennon's "Happiness is a Warm Gun." They were taking chances, pushing each other creatively, and sounded and looked like a band. The drummer's presence on the mic was welcome, too. My standard answer when people ask about my time at McGill is positive, but I qualify it because I feel the year I was in was a special one. I still play fairly regularly with many of my classmates, and there was a willingness to always explore, to always try new things (or, at least, things that were new to us). I've seen and heard many students burn out and become disillusioned with the jazz education system, and it was a pleasure to see some genuine creativity and joy coming out of a school ensemble.

The third - in two parts - was at Saturday's J Dilla tribute, presented by Montreal music maven Lexis, featuring our very own Scott C & Simahlak, with Toronto imports MyManHenri and BadBadNotGood. Every Dilla tribute in Montreal seems to be a night of unity in the Montreal hip-hop scene, and Saturday was no exception - representatives from Kalmunity, Alaiz, and the Nomadic Massive crews were there (and there's some overlap between those three groups). Efa from Ruckus, Ango, and Krystale, were also in the building. BadBadNotGood were, indeed, very good, although not what I expected. These three (ex?-)Humber College students took a different tack on Dilla beats. I'm sure one of the "Bad"s in the group name must be an homage to The Bad Plus for their sheer force, energy and revisionism. They kind of reminded me of Indigone's early days, where we would take every tune to a high-energy climax, whether it warranted it or not. They injected sudden tempo shifts and aggressive energy into their takes on classic beats like Busta Rhymes' "Woo-Ha" and De La Soul's "Stakes is High." With Henri's master class in the way Dilla flipped samples (and a classy moment of silence dedicated to Dilla, Whitney Houston, and Bad News Brown), BBNG's next-generation live set, and Scott C & Simahlak keeping heads nodding all night, it felt like the hip-hop equivalent of Katie Malloch's party: an inter-generational celebration of the people and music that are integral influences to what we're doing now.

The Goods playlist, Feb 5 2012

I had the pleasure once again of filling in for Scott C & Andy Williams on The Goods. My cold thankfully did not interrupt the two-hour set. I also had the privilege of welcoming the Ethnic Heritage Ensemble into the studio in advance of their show this afternoon at a loft space.


Roy Campbell's Pyramid Trio - "Ethnic Stew and Brew"
Art Ensemble of Chicago - "JA"
FLY - "JJ"
Hypnotic Brass Ensemble - "Starfighter"
Mulatu Astatke – “I Faram Gami I Faram”
Eddie Palmieri – “Mi Cumbia”
Roberto Roena y su Apollo Sound – “Los Demas”
Clare Fischer – “Descarga Yema Ya”

Performance/Interview with Ethnic Heritage Ensemble
Corey Wilkes - "Remy's Revenge"

Stanton Moore – “Fallin’ Off the Floor”
Dr. John – “Quitters Never Win”
Eddie Bo – "Gotta Have More"

Lee Dorsey – “O Me-O, My-O”
Meters – “Look-Ka Py Py”
Vijay Iyer – “The Star of a Story”
Miguel Atwood-Ferguson – “Don't Nobody Care About Us”
Sonnymoon – “Machinery”
Nicolay & the Hot At Nights – “Meiji Shrine”
*Sarah Linhares - "Here"
Mark de Clive-Lowe f/ Nia Andrews – “We Renegades”
*Conn Shawnery - "Apache Revisited"
J-Boogie Dubtronic Science - "Salaam"

I'll see you on the radio

CBC's Katie Malloch has announced her retirement, and the news has rightfully been saluted with remembrances from Peter Hum, Jesse Cahill and Ted Warren. Katie was one of the welcoming voices on the airwaves as I first started to discover jazz: she, along with Ross Porter, Ted O'Reilly and Bob Parlocha (who was syndicated on CJRT-FM in Toronto at the time), was a lynchpin in my jazz education. Her work on Jazz Beat was not only influential on me as a musician, but greatly fostered my belief that radio is much a part of musical education as any lesson.

Being a generation or two behind Peter, Jesse, and Ted, I never had the good fortune of being played or mentioned on Jazz Beat. My professional career only started in the waning of Jazz Beat's days, and Tonic, though Katie's presence on the mic was unchanged, was a bit of a different animal. I only have had one personal interaction with Katie Malloch to date. She was moderating a public Q&A with Pat Metheny at Jazz Fest a few years ago. I submitted a question on paper and she selected it to ask. For some reason I had put my last name on the sheet, and after asking Metheny the question, added, "Hmm, I wonder if he's related to...". I will be in attendance at the Montreal farewell party: as both a musician and radio host, I owe her a tremendous debt of gratitude.

The Montreal party is next Wednesday, February 8, at Cabaret Lion D'Or (1676 Ontario E., corner Papineau). Kevin Dean's group with PJ Perry, Mike Rud, and Neil Swainson will be featured. I have a sneaking suspicion other artists will grace the stage, too. Doors are at 7, the show begins at 8, and it's free with a reservation to mtlcomm@cbc.ca.

Reclamation

I've been silent on the subject of #BAM (Black American Music), as so many other people have delved into it very eloquently already. There was some activity on Twitter yesterday that caught my eye, however, that illustrates the core issue I have, not with the term or the music itself, but with the term's most recent etymology.

After many summations of the BAM conference at APAP in New York this weekend (which I have yet to watch, it's on today's playlist for sure), Nicholas Payton issued this rather innocuous-looking tweet:

Funny, I've had several twitter conversations with @Chrisdaddydave and @robertglasper and neither of those Niggas follow me. Killen. #mfcomn

Considering how vocal Payton has been on comparing the "j-word" with the "n-word," his use of the latter raises the logical fallacy I've had with him since the beginning of this movement. My issue lies with the ability of certain communities to reclaim and redefine words. Is Payton now admitting that "j-word" musicians can use the "j-word" amongst ourselves, but no one else can? Is there a difference between "jass" (the original derogatory term applied to this music) and "jazz" - is the difference between -ss and -zz the same as the difference between -er and -a? Coming on the heels of Gary Bartz comparing the jazz-industrial complex to the slavery house system, it's an ironic, if not hypocritical, tweet.

To be clear, I'm not trying to run from the racial undertones of jazz's history, nor am I advocating widespread use of the n-word. The n-word debate has raged on precisely because some in a community have decided to reclaim it and re-use it, and in doing so, attempt to strip it of its initial meaning. (See; Chris Rock and Richard Pryor.) So why not shape the word jazz - as we already shape the music - into our own image? Why is the "j-word" so beyond the pale and far from redemption?

***

When the whole initial BAM firestorm arose, I couldn't help but remember a moment from Vijay Iyer's lecture at the Banff Centre in 2005. He asked, "Who in this room would call themselves a jazz musician?" Some hands were raised, but some hands (including Dave Douglas') remained firmly at rest. Iyer rephrased, "Who would say that they are a musician that has deeply investigated the musical tradition that is commonly referred to as 'jazz'?" And most, if not all, of the hands in the room went up. And, for me, that is key.

Jazz is a loaded term, to be sure. It comes with connotations - of racial history, of behavioural tendencies, lately of elitism - that we may not want nor that we support any longer. However, it is the currently accepted name of a rich musical tradition that, for me, forms the backbone of who and what I am artistically. My sense of structure is rooted in song form and in the longer forms of jazz composition, not rondo, sonata or Italian dances. I think of the rhythmic intricacies of J Dilla, Bob Marley and traditional samba in degrees of "swing." My sense of harmonic analysis comes from jazz harmony, not Schenker or my classical theory courses in university. As such, I am firmly a jazz musician (perhaps "jazz-trained" would be the more appropriate moniker) whether I'm playing dancehall, forró, BAM, an opera, or freely improvising.

My aesthetic issues with the term "BAM" lie with its sense of being too general (Black American Music encompassing everything from gospel to hip-hop, and as much as I love it, my shouting B3 chops are non-existent) as well as too specific. As I've mentioned previously, some of the most compelling "jazz" of late, to my ears, draws from the "Black American Music rooted in a swinging pulse and song form" tradition as it does from India (Iyer, Rudresh Mahanthappa's Kinsmen and Apti), Iraq and Iran (Amir El-Saffar's work), Eastern Europe (Jim Black, Chris Speed and Brad Shepik's output over the last decade), and the Afro-Latin diaspora (Miguel Zenón, Guillermo Klein, Esperanza Spalding, Gretchen Parlato, Fabian Almazan). The classical tradition, while I've never formally studied it, is as influential on my own recent work as it has been throughout the history of jazz - Bird was checking out Stravinsky, there are clear references to Debussy in Billy Strayhorn's work, the late Bob Brookmeyer incorporated Lutoslawski's tonal density into chestnuts like "My Funny Valentine" and "Skylark." Where does that leave us for a term that encompasses all of these things?

Indigo, indigoing...

Speaking of chance encounters in New York, on my last visit, I got to meet fellow Ropeadope artist Todd Clouser in the flesh at The Bitter End. Todd lives in Baja, so for the two of us to meet while both passing through NYC was a bit of odd happenstance. I mentioned, as I always do, that if he ever wanted to play in Montreal I'd hook him up. A few Facebook messages later, I rounded up the Indigone crew for what seems to be an annual winter performance! We welcome bassist Joel Kerr into the extended Indigone family for this occasion. (Seb will have just returned from Chile alongside Color Violeta, a fantastic project paying tribute to Violeta Parra. ¡Felicidades, mis hermanos!)

INDIGONE TRIO & TODD CLOUSER'S A LOVE ELECTRIC
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 11, 2011
CASA DEL POPOLO (4873 St-Laurent)
8:30 pm - $10
David Ryshpan - keyboards/compositions; Joel Kerr - bass; Evan Tighe - drums.

For a brief time, let ours be the beautiful songs

There's been a long silence on this blog, not necessarily intentionally. Very luckily, in my world, "jazz" is not necessarily that uncool. (More on that subject to possibly follow)

Loyal readers of this blog have probably noticed various winks and nods to a project that I've been pursuing. Finally, after nearly two years of work, I can finally divulge all the details in this space.

The name Gitanjali Jain has made frequent appearances here over the past year or so: we both perform together in the live salsa/hip-hop band Mantecoso (who also backed up Latin soul legend Joe Bataan), and we both had the privilege to record with Matana Roberts on Coin Coin: Gens de couleur libres. A strong vocalist with a background in theatre, we initially met randomly at a bar in New York. I realized that having your drinking neighbour speak French is common on Boulevard St-Laurent but not on Avenue C.

Gitanjali knew that I was very inspired by Latin American poetry in the past - two pieces from the Indigone album, Cycles, are based on Neruda and Borges, respectively - and had intentions to work with more of it in the future. While I was in Banff in 2010, she e-mailed me an anonymous, pre-Hispanic Mexican poem she had found. I wrote music to it in two days. Upon my return to Montreal, she showed me the poetry of her uncle, Francisco Serrano. A couple of his poems immediately lit the same spark that Neruda and Borges touched, as well. At some point in this process, we said, "Why don't we turn this into a full-on song cycle?" Months of writing, rehearsal, demo-ing, revising, and support from the Conseil des arts et des lettres du Québec later, the song cycle is here: ALICUANTA.

Alicuanta (aliquant): "A number or expression which is not an exact divisor of a given number or expression" (Oxford Dictionary of Mathematics)

 It's an apt title, for what we've created is not really any one thing in particular: musically, we've drawn from Mexican folkloric traditions, modern jazz, and contemporary classical. Looking down the road at future presentations, we plan on utilizing Gitanjali's strong background in theatre, but this isn't a play, nor an opera, nor a musical. It's somewhere in between.

The texts are mostly drawn from Serrano's anthology, Aquí es ninguna parte, though there are some poems drawn from other books of his, as well as that pre-Hispanic poem that started it all. Mr. Serrano describes the poems we've selected for the song cycle as "songs of love and lost love, pain and hope, rhythms that evoke surprise, joy, gratitude, and loneliness and longing and nostalgia. In short, a passionate record of the forgotten wonder of being alive."

 The songs are bridged by improvised interludes set to a poem entitled "Elegía trágica," written in homage to General Francisco Roque Serrano (1889-1927). Investigating the history of the General has been as much a part of this project as the other poetry and composition; a leading figure of the Mexican Revolution, General Serrano was brutally assassinated by his opponent while running for presidency in 1927. (Yes, that's a gross oversimplification of the events that occurred.) It's a tangled web of betrayal, political corruption and historiography that to this day is still not really clear.

This marks the first time I've collaborated in composition with someone to this degree, on this scale. I'm incredibly grateful to Gitanjali for her co-piloting this project and to the musicians who have played a part in developing this work. I'm proud to announce the premiere of ALICUANTA is Wednesday, December 14 at a beautiful loft called La Cenne. All the details are below:

GITANJALI JAIN & DAVID RYSHPAN PRESENT: ALICUANTA
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14, 2011
LA CENNE (7755 St-Laurent, #300)
8 pm sharp! - $10 (tickets available through alicuantamusic@gmail.com)
Gitanjali Jain - voice; David Ryshpan - piano/electronics; Sébastien Pellerin - bass; Claudio Palomares - cajón; Mark Nelson - drums; Marjolaine Lambert & Stephanie Park - violins; Lilian Belknap - viola; Bryan Holt - cello.

Hallowed halls

Here's my first attempt at video-blogging. A couple of weeks back I got a guided tour of the new Montreal Jazz Festival exposition from head honcho André Ménard. He showed me around the exhibit featuring memorabilia from a small sampling of artists important to the festival's history. For a more thorough investigation of the Montreal Jazz Festival, be sure to check out the Médiathèque, home to a bunch of Mac Minis loaded up with all the CDs in the Festival's collection as well as every videotaped show over the years. I've already whiled away many hours in that place, with a promise of many more to come: Spectra has taken ownership of late jazz connoisseur/historian/"friend of jazz" Len Dobbin's archives, including more than 12,000 CDs and 500 books.

SFJAZZ Collective - L'Astral, 10/12/2011

Given my well-documented geekery for all things Stevie Wonder, there was absolutely no way I was going to miss this latest edition of the SFJAZZ Collective. (I even had to forgo seeing my brothers and sisters of Groundfood & Snarky Puppy tear up Club Lambi - ah, the sacrifices we make.) The last time I saw the Collective was in 2009, on the McCoy Tyner run at the Metropolis. There have been a couple of personnel changes since: Avishai Cohen has assumed the trumpet chair from Dave Douglas; Mark Turner is on tenor, in place of Joe Lovano; and Edward Simon is now on the piano bench instead of Renee Rosnes. For the Canadian stretch of the tour, Kendrick Scott was subbing Eric Harland on drums, and the L'Astral hit was his first gig.

The first set started with Robin Eubanks' arrangement of Wonder's "Race Babbling," which kicked things off with a healthy dose of swing. Vibraphonist Stefon Harris carved out a deliberately bluesy statement before flying across his instrument. Scott has a broader sound on the drums and washier cymbals than Harland's precise and tight kit, creating an Elvin-like lope. A fragment of "Contusion" sent Eubanks off over a hybrid samba/songo groove. Cohen, like his sister Anat, is a charismatic presence onstage, trotting off behind the piano to dance behind Eubanks' solo. The whole adventure wound down with a beautiful chorale of "If It's Magic."

"Deliberate" is an adjective that came up frequently in my notebook. All the members of the Collective, but notably Turner, Harris, and Simon, have an almost architectural solo concept that came to the fore throughout the show. Harris' arrangement of "Visions" opened with a stark solo vibraphone intro, contrasting clean octaves with clusters that created the widest phasing effect I've ever heard from vibes. The blend between Harris and Simon evoked a massive Fender Rhodes. Gradually the vibes set up a very dense, repetitive figure, a much busier version of "Visions" than would necessarily suit my tastes. It's one of the strongest melodies and it seemed to get obscured. Scott was pushing Turner through his solo, which released into the gorgeous bridge of the tune.

Cohen's ballad, "Family," opened with another stunningly crafted solo introduction by Edward Simon over a G minor drone. I was so taken by the melody and its orchestration I stopped writing notes. Matt Penman took the microphone and introduced his own tune, "The Economy" in nearly flawless French. Described as a "tragicomic" affair, the tune is marked by a dark and biting unison line. The four horns scattered to the corners of the stage, playing an off-mic chorale, with Cohen seemingly playing into the piano. The drum solo was cleverly crafted as a call-and-response between the riff and Scott, which then exploded into assertive statements by Miguel Zenón and Simon.

The second set opened with Ed Simon's tune, "Young and Playful," which featured a strong Cohen solo (complete with a quote of "Peter and the Wolf") and some winks-and-nods at tumbao from Simon. Mark Turner's arrangement of "Blame it On the Sun" was next, tweaking the melody through some subtle rhythmic variations without fragmenting it too much. Scott was in lockstep throughout Zenón's solo, finding all the right holes to fill without ever getting in the way. Penman's version of "Creepin'" was suitably brooding, with a phenomenal Turner statement. The outro was delivered in a new, faster tempo with Zenón and Cohen trading. The set concluded with SFJAZZ's semi-viral hit, Zenón's arrangement of "Superstition." Scott, throughout the evening, took things in a more Latin direction than Eric Harland's hip-hop-informed interpretations, and it worked surprisingly well here. Eubanks dug in with another great turn.

There's been discussion about the fact that SFJAZZ has paid tribute to a non-jazz composer, such as Stevie Wonder. I would personally argue that Wonder is as much an influence on today's jazz composers as Kenny Wheeler, Wayne Shorter, or Monk. This edition of the Collective seemed to have a much more cohesive language among its members, both in terms of improvising and arrangement. Easily one of the standout gigs of the year that I have seen.

Trio Bruxo at L'OFF Festival

It's a rarity that I get to perform on a real piano with this band. Thanks to Claude Thibault from SortiesJazzNights for the quick upload!

In the good ole days when we were young

After an intense week of final prep, the Joe Bataan gig is in the past. It was not the first time I've learned another artist's repertoire and mounted a band for them - Trio Bruxo has done that frequently - but this was on another level. I felt like, in the absence of Joe and his music director, Ray Poncin, that I was entrusted with his legacy of Latin soul and getting it into shape before they got there. The musicians of Mantecoso had the music for two months before the gig, and like any jazz-trained bandleader I rehearsed according to "the ink," or what was on the page. It was only two days before the show, during dinner, when Ray told me, "Oh yeah, we don't play it like the charts." Cue some mad scrambling before the final rehearsal to figure out their sign language signals (similar to my own, but different enough that we had to wrap our heads around it) and realizing that basically every tune was no longer a set arrangement but modular sections to be cut and pasted at Joe's whim.

It was an honour to be on stage alongside Joe - an old-school performer and businessman who drives the bus in the same way as classic R&B singers of yore. It's a New York-bred mentality that not many people have in Montreal. His riveting stories about contracts and life on the road was mentorship unlike any that exists in Canada. I have to thank Frank Rodriguez and Lou Piensa of Afro-Latin Soul for spearheading this project, and for them and Joe and Ray to put their faith in me is a privilege I don't take lightly. And many thanks to Pop Montreal for taking the initiative of booking Joe Bataan, an artist who has a significant cult following; contrary to the enthusiastic Midnight Poutine review, most of the audience at Sala Rossa were there explicitly and exclusively for Mr. Bataan. Before we went on stage, Joe received a few guests backstage telling him that they had waited 30 years to see him live.

Some reviews of the show have gone up, and I just want to set the facts straight. It's clear from the tone of the reviews from The Gazette's T'cha Dunlevy and La Presse's Alain Brunet that, like any good freelance journalist, they caught mere snippets of our set. Anyone who knows Joe Bataan's catalogue would not peg him as a salsa artist - he has always referred to himself as "Latin soul." Only three of the tunes in our twelve-song set were salsa dura - the rest ran the gamut from bossa nova to breakbeats, proto-rap and gospel. As much as I love the Latin musicians in Montreal, I don't know many of them that could handle that diversity of music. It takes a versatile crew of musicians to be able to hang on "Puerto Rico me Llama" as well as "Call My Name." I'm aware that it wasn't perfect, but I'm satisfied with it, considering we had 3 hours with Joe to re-learn the arrangements. Regarding the weakness of drums and percussion in the mix, suffice it to say that when the congas are miked with only one overhead mic, its presence in the mix will be severely compromised, regardless of how great the player is.

Regarding the lack of Latino-American musicians on stage with Joe, I want to bring to everyone's attention that we had three musicians from the Latin & South American diaspora with us: Butta Beats is originally from Buenos Aires, saxophonist Steve Salcedo is of Dominican heritage, and conguero David Sanchez (also of Heavy Soundz) is Mexican. The fact that we had a Torontonian Jew, a Québécois, and a Minnesotan in the band reflects the reality of the Montreal music scene quite aptly and I think is a perfectly appropriate showcase for Pop Montreal and for the influence of Afro-Latin Soul across North America. Let's use this successful concert to rejuvenate the Latin music scene in Montreal. The crowd came out to support in force, and there are ample musicians here, Latino or not, to capably back up the legends that are still among us.

Sapopemba

One year ago, when Trio Bruxo was in São Paulo, vibraphonist, producer, and man-about-town Guga Stroeter was kind enough to show us around Centro Cultural Rio Verde and studio Sambatá across the street. He gave us phone numbers of fantastic musicians in town, equipment for our upcoming gigs, and CDs that his great band Orquestra HB (Heartbreakers) have put out. Two of them feature the singer Sapopemba on traditional songs from various regions of Brazil; one CD traces the common roots of candomblé and santería to the Nigerian Yoruban traditions, and unites a band that is half-Cuban, half-Brazilian. Both of these albums floored me when I got back to Montreal. What's more is that Guga told us Sapopemba is (or was?) a truck driver, whose parents used to take him to all the parties in town - that's how he learned Brazilian folklore and according to Guga, "knows more about the folkloric history of Brazil than any professor."

Guga posted this on Facebook this morning: a program on TV Cultura called Ensaio (Rehearsal), featuring Sapopemba & Orquestra HB. As the weather starts to get colder here in Montreal, this music brings me right back to São Paulo. Muito obrigado. Axé.

September happenings

Apologies for the blog silence. It's been busy behind the scenes here. Some of the reasons are listed below.

September 9, 2011 marks the return of Trio Bruxo. We haven't played as a trio with original drummer Mark Nelson in quite a while - Pascal Lepage, now of Bran Van 3000 fame, has been a fantastic sub lately. We'll be adding some new tunes to the repertoire, including original compositions of mine. This gig also marks the one-year (!) anniversary of our adventures in São Paulo, so expect a good chunk of music related to that city. [I should really do a link-dump post of all the fantastic people we met there; I'm still amazed by the hospitality and graciousness people showed us while we were there, and I can't wait to go back.] Our good friend Isaac Neto will open for us, and we'll do a few tunes together at the end, as well.

TRIO BRUXO @ CLUB LAMBI

4465 St-Laurent, corner Mont-Royal

Friday, September 9, 2011

9 pm - $10

DRR - keyboards; Nicolas Bédard - bass; Mark Nelson - drums/percussion; with Isaac Neto - guitar & voice.

I've been keeping this next gig pretty close to my chest. I am humbled, privileged and thrilled to announce that I will be playing with Latin Soul pioneer Joe Bataan at POP Montreal. A co-production by POP, Afro-Latin Soul (run by Nomadic Massive's Lou Piensa and San Juan Hill's Frank Diggz), and The Goods, we've rounded up the Mantecoso gang and become the Afro-Latin Soul Orchestra. We'll be playing all the Bataan classics, and it promises to be a fantastic night of music.

On many levels, this show is very important to me. It marks Mr. Bataan's first ever gig in Montreal, and to be entrusted with his music is a great honour, indeed. I've long been an advocate of meetings between international musicians with local players; as much as I love the notion of working bands and nurturing that development, I think the bandstand experience of being in the pickup band for a touring soloist and singer is also necessary for musical development, not only for individual artists but for a city's scene in general. I hope that this gig will re-energize the live Latin music scene in Montreal - it's bubbling under the surface, and recent shows by salsa groups both homegrown and from elsewhere have proven that it's a vibrant community - and promote more exchanges between Montreal musicians and other like-minded artists.

POP Montreal, Afro-Latin Soul & The Goods present: JOE BATAAN

Saturday, September 24, 2011

La Sala Rossa (4848 St-Laurent)

doors: 8:30 pm; San Juan Hill -> Joe Bataan -> The Goods

Joe Bataan - keyboards/vocals; Ray Poncin - trumpet; Steven Salcedo - tenor sax/flute; Jean-Philippe Tremblay - trombone; Chris Cargnello - guitar; DRR - keyboards; Mark Haynes - bass; David Sanchez - congas; Butta Beats - drums.

City inspiration

I took a bit of a whirlwind trip down to New York this weekend, with the express purpose of being a tourist in Bienestan, the fictional country established by Aaron Goldberg and Guillermo Klein. Named by bassist Matt Penman in a linguistic mixup (he misread the title of "impresión de bienestar" as "bienestan"), Bienestan is a place to do whatever you like. As evidenced by their final set at Jazz Standard, that meant drastically revisiting standards and Charlie Parker tunes in the kaleidoscopic rhythmic language that Klein loves. Joined by saxophonist Miguel Zenón (who is another master of rhythmic illusion driven more by clave and melody than math) and drummer Eric Harland, the music was absolutely brilliant. The opening minimalist vignette of "Implacable" for just Goldberg on piano and Klein on Rhodes led into an abstraction of "All the Things You Are." The self-described "cubist" takes on "Donna Lee" and "Blues for Alice" were highlights.

Earlier on Sunday I had a lesson with Guillermo. We looked at some music I'm writing for piano trio, voice and string quartet (more on this later), and he offered concise, cogent and inspiring insights into how to improve the music. His sense of harmony and orchestration is deeply rooted in Duke and Gil Evans; throughout the lesson this became clear. One of the best lessons I've had in a long time, in terms of getting myself to re-evaluate my own work, my process, and my musical language. We also took a look at the woodwind orchestrations on Miguel Zenón's new record, Alma Adentro.

Other impressions from this weekend:

- Spotted at the Jazz Standard: Matt Merewitz, Dan Tepfer, Aaron Parks, Patrick Jarenwattananon, Obed Calvaire, and Billy Hart. Maybe it's because there's a concentration of everything in NYC, but it was really nice to see fellow musicians and industry people at a show in the "off-season". Yes, I'm guilty of not going out to jazz shows as much as I used to or as I should. I'm planning on changing that. The scene starts with ourselves.

- Monday night I went down to the Bitter End for Richie Cannata's Monday night jam session. I went once, years ago, when it was at the Cutting Room. It feels much more like a session and a hang at the Bitter End than at the Cutting Room, where it felt like a show. I met fellow Ropeadope artist Todd Clouser, and was blown away by the house band's keyboardist, Benny Harrison. There was a 16-year-old curly-haired, bespectacled kid that played some really solid rhythm guitar on "Whole Lotta Love" and "Last Dance with Mary Jane." It recalled my days swigging iced tea out of pint glasses at the Rex.

- Guitarist Oz Noy played the set before the jam, with rock-influenced takes on Monk tunes: "Light Blue" had a surf quality to it, and the closing "Evidence" was drenched in fuzz. They did a dirty shuffle version of "Ballin' the Jack," too.

- What impressed me most at the Bitter End jam, frankly, was the sound system and the sound man. When was the last time there was a soundman on site for a jam session in Montreal? The system was powerful but not painfully loud. This is a lesson all Montreal venues need to learn. (I agree wholeheartedly with Bugs Burnett's assessment of Jello Bar, but it would be infinitely more impressive to hear Alan Prater, Dan Thouin and company through a really well-tuned system with a sound guy at the helm.)

FIJM: Wrap-up & 2012 Wish List

Nearly a month late, I just realized I never did a final summation on the Montreal Jazz Fest. The final show I saw was Malian vocalist Khaira Arby, who was just absolutely stunning. The obstacles which she has had to overcome are enough to warrant attention, but above and beyond that her voice is golden. She's got that indescribable power that Milton Nascimento and so many other great singers share to just cut to the core of a song and a listener, without fanfare or flash but with sheer emotional acuity. Arby is described as a fierce feminist, but I feel like she's more a humanist, advocating the equality of sexes. She is the reason women can sing in Tuareg communities. What an inspiring way to close the festival.

These are acts that got away in 2011 (and in previous editions too). Here's my wish list for 2012, and I've even taken it upon myself to suggest the venues! Most of these artists have not performed at the FIJM to my knowledge, the exceptions being Zenón and Forró in the Dark who are just way overdue for a return.

- Guillermo Klein y los Guachos in Gesù

- John Hollenbeck Large Ensemble in Gesù
- Miguel Zenón Esta Plena in Gesù or Club Soda
- Ambrose Akinmusire in (guess where!) Gesù
- Tirtha in Gesù
- Kneebody (with or without Theo Bleckmann) in L'Astral
- Calle 13, outside or in Metropolis
- Instituto at Savoy at midnight
- Criolo, at Club Soda
- Forró in the Dark, outside or Club Soda
- Mark de Clive-Lowe featuring Nia Andrews, Rahel and/or Sy Smith, outside or in Club Soda

- Aloe Blacc in Club Soda

And my two personal pipe-dreams:
- Ruben Blades opening or closing the festival outdoors
- Zimbo Trio in L'Astral

Montreal Guitar Show 2011

No, I'm not a guitarist. I have always been fascinated by the instrument, though. Also being in love with all things shiny, and having hung out in music stores since a young age, I have made a point over the last three years of going to the Montreal Guitar Show, one of the biggest guitar expositions in North America. It was created to coincide with the Jazz Festival, having now spawned its own award and its own sub-series of programming.

The show is split into two large conference rooms at the Hyatt: one of electric guitars (with soundproofed booths with boutique amplifiers), and one of acoustics (also with soundproofed module studios). Of the electrics, I got to lay my hands on Mike Potvin's Ranchero Grande Thinline - I've always had a thing for Thinline Telecaster-style guitars - and Kauer Guitars' Daylighter, both of which played amazingly for this non-guitarist. I wish I remembered the name of the amp I played them through. One guitar I played a couple of years ago, and still covet, is Marc Lupien's Convertible, presented again this year in all its glory. James Trussart's instruments looked far too intimidating and beautiful for this pretender to pick up and play.

I didn't spend as much time in the acoustic side, but I did see Batson Guitars' flat-fronted offerings, and a beautiful luthier from Tijuca, Fernando Bernardo. I've also been nursing an obsession over lap steels, so I was happy to refresh myself with the work of Joseph Yanuziello, and really wanted to check out Bill Asher's work.

FIJM 2011 - Day 8

Another Jazz Fest day dominated by the outdoor stages. Singer Magos Herrera kicked off the evening with a set of music from her new album Mexico Azul. Herrera takes songs from the golden era of Mexican cinema spanning the 1930s-50s, and re-arranges them in a polished, modern jazz setting. Many of the tunes were reset in odd meters, reflecting the traditional Mexican 3 feel with a subtle lilt. Pianist Luis Perdomo and guitarist Nir Felder laid a lush harmonic carpet for Herrera's voice. Both of them were strong, impressive soloists, especially Perdomo with his post-Herbie Hancock language. The balance between drummer Alex Kautz and percussionist Rogerio Boccato was something to behold - the two never got in each other's way, and with Boccato playing his multi-percussion setup with sticks most of the time, it really blended into the sound of Kautz's kit. Herrera pushed her voice (which sounds more powerful now than it did on Distancia) with a bit of a pop-ish manner. The only headscratching moment came at the end of the set, when she delivered the beautiful "Tres Palabras" in English, which seemed to rob it of its poetry.

I caught a bit of Peru's Novalima, whose electronically-enhanced Afro-Peruvian funk translates far better on a big outdoor stage with lots of bass than in the cabaret setting of Lion D'or (as I saw a few years ago). Still riding the wave of their last album, Coba Coba, they previewed some new material from an upcoming record. Based on the set, I look forward to hearing it.

Nomadic Massive & Groundfood tore the roof off Savoy late night. Nomadic warmed up the crowd with some of their live set staples, with a couple of new tracks interspered. Then they made way for Groundfood, who added an MC alongside their usual crew of Kalmunity-affiliated band members. Then, the masterpiece was the all-killer, no-filler, hybrid set of Hip Hop Revival greatest hits. What started as a one-off night of Native Tongues covers has grown into a new Montreal tradition. Their set on Saturday included Black Star's "Definition," Tali & Meduza taking on Lauryn Hill's "That Thing," and the closing posse cut "Scenario." The highlight of the night was seeing the hip-hop colours of guitarist Ali Sepu (taking the mic for "Insane in the Membrane") and poet/trumpeter Blackbird. A night not to be forgotten.

A note: Tali mentioned on the mic (and this was corroborated by FIJM programmer Marc-André Sarault) that on the first night of Nomadic's midnight residency, there were up to 2000 people waiting outside that couldn't get in. On Saturday, Savoy was full well before midnight. In a year where the outdoor "blowouts" have been referred to by the Gazette's Bernie Perusse as "underwhelming," perhaps FIJM should consider booking Nomadic, Groundfood, and their extended family of the Montreal soul & hip-hop scene for a real homegrown expo next year. Just a thought.

FIJM 2011 - Day 7

After the modernist Latin jazz of John Benitez and Yosvany Terry, and the knockout salsa of La Excelencia, I was looking forward to hearing the more traditional sounds of Sierra Maestra. A group of traditional soneros, active since 1976, their former members include Juan de Marcos Gonzalez - the mastermind of Afro-Cuban All Stars - and Jesus Alemany of Cubanismo.

They immediately portrayed the difference of people learning the music vs. people living the music - though not loud or in-your-face like brass-driven salsa, the time feel of Sierra Maestra was powerfully deep. With the traditional complement of percussion (conga, bongo, guiro and cowbell) and electric bass, the sound was well grounded. The rhythmic changes - from son to changui to 6/8 - were highly effective; they spurred the crowd of dancers, and while they weren't necessarily executed in the tightest fashion, they always felt good.

With a band this culturally and historically important, a group that very rarely plays Montreal, the show at Club Soda was disappointingly short: 40 minute first set, then an intermission, then a half-hour second set. No encore, house music on, techs abruptly and diligently tearing down the mics. Not everyone needs to do four-hour marathons like Prince or Peter Frampton, and I know the Festival needs to change over the venues, but by the time Sierra Maestra generated a good dose of momentum in their set, they were offstage.

***

I was fortunate to catch about half of Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey's set. Playing mostly music from their upcoming album, The Race Riot Suite, it was my first occasion to hear them with bassist Jeff Harshbarger. Harshbarger's woody sound is more "acoustic" than his predecessors, which frees up pianist Brian Haas and drummer Josh Raymer. Lap steel guitarist Chris Combs is the composer of the suite, whose movements range from semi-New Orleans grooves to late-Romantic or early-20th century sonatas for Haas. Combs' sound, soaked in reverb and delay, adds an otherworldly texture to the band, a collision between Frisellian Americana and indie rock thrust. Raymer reminded me of local drummer Jim Doxas, in his mannerisms around the kit and in his wide swing feel.

***

Pianist Dan Tepfer is a fan of counterpoint. In evidence from the first tune of his Upstairs set, "Nines," his harmonic sense stems from interweaving lines, and less from traditional chord-scale pedagogy or vertical harmony. His exceeding amount of technique is at the service of his line construction and a solidly intriguing rhythmic sense. Drummer Ted Poor was the embodiment of interactivity without being overbearing. He was even busy at times but still supportive of Tepfer, the former watching the latter like a hawk during endings.

Tepfer, Poor and bassist Massimo Biolcati exhibited great range as well. Midset, they displayed their efficacy with the bebop and post-bop tradition with a contrapuntally fractured "Giant Steps" and another beboppy (in Tepfer's own way) tune. On this latter tune, Poor was on fire with his brushes, and the whole trio generated a lot of heat without exploding in volume. Tepfer's variety of dynamic, within his lines and from song to song, was astounding. The opening B major chords in Jacques Brel's "Le plat pays" were chiming incantations, and his original ballad "The Distance" was almost pastoral and bluesy. These ballads had a vibe reminiscent of when Brad Mehldau plays Radiohead, and allowed Biolcati to display a singing, resonant solo voice on the bass.

As a pianist/composer, Tepfer is also a fan of arpeggiated figures that anchor some of his tunes. Both "Nines" and "Back At Ya" had repetitive figures that served as the foundation of the piece, but also threatened to straitjacket the band members a bit. When Tepfer released his left hand from the shackles of the ostinato, the tunes lifted. The freer endings of the pieces were just as, if not more, compelling, than the tunes they concluded. The closing "All I Heard Was Nothing" was the exception, where the pedal point was a hallmark of the piece but not restrictive. Poor and Tepfer soared over the tune, with Tepfer unleashing some modern bluesiness on the vamp out. The trio returned for an encore of "Body and Soul," featuring another enchanting Biolcati solo and Tepfer muting the piano with paper and his fingers. One of the best sets of music of the Festival so far, and easily the best swing feel I've yet heard this week, courtesy of Ted Poor.

FIJM Day 6 - ¡Sabroso!

When I arrived at Upstairs at 6:30 for the first of three sets by the John Benitez group (supposed to start at 7), there were no cymbals on the kit, no bass on stage, and no musicians in the house. Due to some unexpected transportation problems, the band only arrived at 7:15 and hit around 7:50. Both John and club owner Joel Giberovitch apologized profusely for the delays; it didn't seem to affect the music one bit.

As soon as everything was set up and soundchecked to their liking, the band launched into a set of tunes from their new album, Purpose. The first tune took a happy, major-key riff and used it to modulate through various key centres, on top of Benitez's wide tumbao as its anchor. Manuel Valera was an inspiring pianist - he's got a great handle on the 1960s post-bop language, beautifully soulful chord voicings, and an ear for intriguing, denser polychords, but he really lifted the band to a new level every time he unleashed a montuno, as he did behind saxophonist Yosvany Terry. Many of the tunes in the set were either sectional or longer-forms, filled with unison figures split among different members of the band. Terry picked up his shekere for Tom Guarna's guitar solo, whose clean sound, with a bit of delay, added some breath and atmosphere around the band. Guarna's moment to truly shine came in his solo introduction to the second tune of the set, a beautiful ballad featuring out-of-time statements from Benitez and Valera. Guarna and Valera dovetailed their sounds and lines behind Terry's alto solo, elegantly staying out of each other's way.

Francis Benitez, John's son, is a force to be reckoned with. At his young age, he's got chops galore but also the discipline to sit in the pocket. From traditional cascara patterns to funky backbeats to some of the most convincing swing I've heard at this edition of the festival, the father-son rhythm section drove the band forward. Definitely a drummer to watch out for. In addition to being a fantastic alto player, Terry is also a virtuoso on the shekere, as he displayed on the unaccompanied intro to "Rumba." He and the younger Benitez were greatly responsible for finding new colours in the grooves behind the soloists.

From there, it was over to the mainstage to dive into some salsa dura from NYC's La Excelencia. Getting there an hour early, I watched as Montreal's tight-knit community of salsa dancers congregated towards the front and warmed up with miniature expositions as the crowd clapped the clave. La Excelencia is crafted from the same classic Nuyorican salsa mould as the Fania Records heyday of Willie Colón and Johnny Pacheco - intricate horn arrangements that never lost the groove, a pianist that was a montuno machine, and a propulsive timbalero. The singer indulged in a bit too much crowd animation for my liking (I counted about 5 "Montreaaaaaaaaal" shout-outs in an hour-long set, and he repeated "Do you want to continue?" at escalating volume three times in a row), but the band and the tunes were great. They're the perfect argument for the return of salsa orchestras to clubs - dancers never dance as well to a DJ as they do to a live band.

FIJM 2011 - Miscellaneous

- Sunday: had the pleasure of hanging out with pianist Kiko Continentino, who absolutely schooled me in Carioca samba-jazz. He also e-mailed out Milton's full setlist from the night before.

- Sunday: Soul Rebels Brass Band rolled through Jello Bar, where Café Soul (Alan Prater, Dan Thouin, Al Baculis, Tony Albino, and guests Jordan Peters, Maxime St-Pierre and François "Franky Love" D'Amours) were holding court for a three-day long jam session. A wicked version of "Chameleon" and a hell of a lot of dancing ensued.

- Tuesday: Esperanza Spalding to Gretchen Parlato during soundcheck - "I don't even know what to say to you, because we don't have words for this feeling in our culture."

- Wednesday: finally made it to the Upstairs jam session, where pianist Jeff Johnston took me to school again with a brilliant solo piano version of "Round Midnight," before Fraser Hollins and Greg Ritchie jumped in with "Rhythm-A-Ning." I got to play with Rémi-Jean LeBlanc and Rogerio Boccato on drums, including a samba version of "Softly As In a Morning Sunrise" with vocalist Amelia McMahon.