Spring announcements

These last weeks of May are busy ones. Lots of announcements follow:

Thursday, May 19, Montreal Gazette columnist Sue Montgomery has organized a benefit concert entitled Bougez pour Haiti. A reprise of her successful event last year, all proceeds will be donated to a public high school in Limbé, and a Decamus business school in Port-au-Prince. I'll be performing with two members of Nomadic Massive, Vox Sambou (who was born in Limbé) and Waahli Yussef. Also on the bill are Emrical, Adris da Prince, and a photo expo from Magee McIlvane. It all goes down at La Sala Rossa (4848 St-Laurent), doors at 8 pm, $20 in advance, $25 at the door, and $15 for students.

Sunday, May 22, vocalist Barbara Reney has organized a marathon Jazz for Japan benefit at the Rialto Theatre (5723 Parc). Starting at 5 pm and running till midnight, it will feature many of Montreal's finest musicians, including Thom Gossage's Other Voices, Parc-X Trio, and Sonia Johnson. I'll be performing with Gary Schwartz's LETTINGO, and with singer Nico Beki. Tickets are on a sliding scale between $15-$30.

Wednesday, May 25, my friends in Kite are launching their début record at Casa del Popolo (4873 St-Laurent). Guitarist Eric Couture-Telmosse, bassist Paul van Dyk, and drummer Eric Dew have been hard at work on this project, and the album bears the fruits of their labour. Recorded in an Ontario barn after a tour, it's a great document of band simpatico and balanced compositional voices (all three write for the group). Paul was kind enough to ask Indigone Trio to open the party! It's free, and there will be food, booze and merch! It starts at 9 pm.

New York 2011 travel diary

Monday after sitting through never-ending rush hour traffic in the Lincoln Tunnel, I got off the bus and headed straight to (Le) Poisson Rouge. It was Matana Roberts' listening party to launch Coin Coin: Gens de Couleur Libres. As I went down the stairs, I heard the "Lullaby" section of the piece playing. LPR is a very big, dark room, a little bit disorienting after 8 hours on a bus. With the dimensions and vibe of the room, it felt very strange to not have a band playing onstage, instead to have a record playing while people congregated at the bar or hung out on couches. I met a couple of close friends of Matana's, beautiful people all, and got to relive the memories of the session - the album was recorded live during the biggest rainstorm of last summer, and we suffered two power outages during soundcheck. I remember Matana asking engineer Radwan Moumneh, "What happens if the power goes down during the recording?" "Well, then, there's a gap in the recording." The spirits were with us that night, and the power and technology behaved. Thanks to the directions of Matana and co., I took a much easier route to Indigone bassist Alex Mallett's place out in South Slope.

Tuesday was spent with singer and good friend Jean Rohe. Around lunchtime, we prepped for our short duo dinner set at Caffe Vivaldi, a tiny, unassuming Italian resto on Jones Street in Greenwich Village. There's always a great energy playing with Jean. Killing time before the show, I went to Tropicalia in Furs, drooled over records, only picking up a couple, and listening to many more. Other record stores in the area that I set foot in were Other Music and Good Records. Very dangerous places. I stumbled on a Carioca transplant playing sambas outside Music Inn on W 4, and invited him down to the gig. The hang continued at Kush, with Ben Allison's weekly residency with Shane Endsley and Steve Cardenas. Jean introduced me to Rogerio Boccato, who sat in on percussion. Also in the audience were Jo Lawry and James Shipp. James, Jean and Rogerio all had their pandeiros with them so it became a real jam session. As Ben remarked, a bit stunned, "Only in New York will there be three pandeiro players... in the audience!"

Wednesday was a dismal, cold and miserable day. I caught up on e-mail, went to Roots Café with Alex's girlfriend, and watched a movie. Headed out to Alex's show at Judson Memorial, a church that hosts "Bailout Theater," an outreach initiative serving food and music to whoever needs it. Alex has been writing great, witty banjo-driven tunes over the past couple of years, and he played them with his new band featuring ex-Montrealers Nico Dann & Alan Biller; I sat in on a few tunes. Afterwards I walked over to NuBlu and caught a long, fantastic, thrilling night of Brazilian music. First up was drummer Adriano Santos' quartet with Helio Alves, Alex Han and Dave Ambrosio. They made me feel like I was back in São Paulo, playing obscure Jovino Santos Neto tunes and a wicked arrangement of Baden Powell's "Consolação." Adriano has that swingue that marks a lot of the fantastic samba-jazz drummers. They were followed by Forró in the Dark, who packed the place (at midnight on a Wednesday - every Wednesday) and turned it into a sweaty dancing mess. I spotted Anat Cohen dancing up a storm beside the stage.

Thursday I met up with publicist extraordinaire Matt Merewitz, who gave me a whole whack of releases to check out from promising new artists and established figures on the scene. Lots of listening to tackle now that I'm home. I grabbed a drink with Alex (our only time to catch up because even though I was staying at his place, our schedules were entirely different), and then headed out to the Vanguard for Guillermo Klein y Los Guachos.

Wow. I knew some of Guillermo's music before, but the power of hearing all those intricate, interlocking parts and entrancing grooves right in front of me was astounding. They played lots of new music (most of which will hopefully land on the upcoming recording). Standouts were "Moreira" (someone correct me if I've misspelled it) and his orchestration of Ginastera's First Piano Sonata. I say orchestration because it appeared that Guillermo was reading from the piano score, while the horns sounded like an extension of his hands. Klein is a democratic and modest bandleader, letting the compositions, arrangements, and hand-picked soloists come forward. There is a beautiful poetry in his lyrics too - he translated one line of "Moreira" for me but I cannot remember it at the moment. One tune had great saxophone triologue from Chris Cheek, Miguel Zenón, and Bill McHenry. Zenon sounded brilliant as usual on "Moreira." Percussionist Richard Nant and drummer Jeff Ballard complemented each other and sounded like one massive kit. I had the pleasure of meeting Guillermo, Miguel, Bill, and Taylor Haskins after the show, congratulating them all.

Friday I had brunch with saxophonist Jon Lindhorst at Wally's Square Root Café. We caught up about the NYC scene, the Montreal scene and who is where now. I packed up my bag and began the long, long, journey home. For those who are wondering, there's not much difference between the train and the bus - the train, I think, is more comfortable and takes marginally more time; the bus is equipped with Wi-Fi and there are multiple ones running throughout the day.

Thanks again to everyone who made this trip a memorable one.

Insider's guide to FIJM 2011 - Indoor edition

The complete indoor programming has been announced for the 32nd edition of the Montreal Jazz Festival. And while, as Peter Hum writes of the Ottawa counterpart, many will bemoan the big name pop headliners like Robert Plant and Peter Frampton, there's a good chunk of phenomenal jazz & world music in the program as well. Let's get to it:

June 25

David Binney Quartet (6 pm, Gésu) - one of the premier voices of modern jazz over the past 15 years, Binney brings his working band of David Virelles (the Cuban pianist that won the Festival's Grand Prix a few years back), Eivind Opsvik and Dan Weiss.

The Jolly Boys (7 pm, Club Soda) - the pioneers of mento.

Jon Day (8 pm, Musée d'art contemporain, also June 26) - a good friend of mine, a great jazz pianist and the co-founder of McGill's Effusion A Capella has transformed himself into a phenomenal and exploratory singer-songwriter-producer. He surprised people at the press event today.

Milton Nascimento (9:30 pm, Théâtre Maisonneuve) - an absolute legend of Brazilian music with his haunting voice in tact. FIJM books these Brazilian masters only once in a blue moon. I already have my ticket.

June 26

Marc Ribot y los Cubanos Postizos (8 pm, Théâtre Jean-Duceppe) - I wore out these albums, paying tribute to the tres master Arsenio Rodriguez. Traditional Cuban music mixed with Ribot's punky, bluesy edge. Ribot is one of the three hosts of the Invitation series; he'll also be playing with his rock band Ceramic Dog and the project Caged Funk.

Steel Pulse & Ernest Ranglin (8:30 pm, Metropolis) - As great as Steel Pulse is, don't miss this opportunity to see the absolute master (and inventor) of the reggae guitar skank, Ranglin.

Brad Mehldau/Joshua Redman Duo (9:30 pm, Théâtre Maisonneuve) - My favourite moments of Mehldau's Highway Rider feature Redman. This video of them tackling Nirvana's "Lithium" is a fantastic preview.

Anat Cohen (10:30 pm, Gésu) - she wowed at L'Astral last time round with her powerfully swinging mix of modern jazz influenced by klezmer and choro.

June 27

Lee Konitz & Dan Tepfer (7 & 10 pm, Upstairs) - An undisputed master with a buzz-worthy up-and-comer. They're also two highly sensitive improvisers. At Upstairs, it'll feel like eavesdropping on a conversation.

Esperanza Spalding's Chamber Music Society (9:30 pm, Théâtre Maisonneuve) - see: Grammy win. See also: Herbie Hancock's endorsement.

June 28

FLY (6 pm, Gésu) - this collaborative trio of Mark Turner, Larry Grenadier and Jeff Ballard are three of my favourite player/composers. I still spin their first record obsessively. I believe this is their first time as a group at the festival.

Gretchen Parlato (9 pm, L'Astral) - considering she sold out Savoy for two nights last year, and that her new album The Lost and Found has garnered a lot of well-deserved buzz and is produced by FIJM darling Robert Glasper, this should sell out quickly and for good reason.

June 29

Darcy James Argue's Secret Society (6 pm, Gésu) - For those who don't already know, go here and find out why.

Lee Fields & The Expressions (7 pm, Club Soda) - part of the Daptone family of unheralded, resurrected soulful party rockers.

Rudresh Mahanthappa & Bunky Green (10:30 pm, Gésu) - Rudresh is deservedly becoming a regular here, and their collaborative album Apex was one of last year's best.

June 30

John Benitez Group f/ Yosvany Terry (7 & 10 pm & midnight, Upstairs) - See: my unabashed love for forward-thinking, burning Latin jazz. Benitez, among other accomplishments, is the bassist on Roy Hargrove's Habana record, my first real entry into Latin music and so he's important to me for sentimental reasons, aside from his deep pocket.

July 1

Don Byron New Gospel Quintet (6 pm, Gésu) - Don schooled us all in gospel at Banff in 2005, and even back then it was clear that this music communicated something very deep and powerful to him. With this band, he now communicates it to us all.

Sierra Maestra (7 pm, Club Soda) - put a legendary Cuban group in a small club and watch the roof explode.

Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey (9:30 pm, L'Astral) - Indigone had the pleasure of opening for these guys at Sala Rossa a couple of years back. They've embarked on two ambitious projects recently, one re-working Beethoven and the other The Race Riot Suite written by their lap steel guitarist, Chris Combs. A unique and mesmerizing group.

Jaga Jazzist (11 pm, Club Soda) - the groovy, electro-jazz wielding Norwegians are back. Someone hipped me to them years ago and I've never seen them live.

July 2

Ana Moura (6 pm, Théâtre Maisonneuve) - fado is a Portuguese folk style that cuts right through me, and Ana is probably its most renowned practitioner these days.

The Roots (8:30 pm, Metropolis) - I still haven't seen them live. They need no justification or introduction. Watch an episode of Jimmy Fallon or follow ?uestlove on Twitter.

July 3

Jean-Pierre Zanella Homage to Don Alias (6 pm, L'Astral) - the legendary percussionist lived here for a while and served as a mentor to a generation of Montreal players. Saxophonist Zanella, who embodies Alias' musical polyglot nature, pays tribute with a cast of Montreal's finest, and guest bassist Gene Perla.

Christian McBride & Inside Straight (6 pm, Gésu) - the bassist who salutes James Brown and Ray Brown equally brings his swinging, straightahead formation to town.

July 4

Daniel Lanois' Black Dub (7 pm, Salle Wilfrid-Pelletier) - the début of this band was supposed to be last year, but Lanois was in a severe motorcycle accident. Lanois and Brian Blade in any combination proves to be magical, and with the addition of Trixie Whitley it will be stunning. Indie sweetheart Leif Vollebekk opens.

Yaron Herman Trio (9 pm, L'Astral) - See: Nextbop. See also: the only pianist I know that counts Frisell, Britney Spears, Björk and "Hatikvah" among his repertoire.

The outdoor programming will be revealed, as we say in French, sous peu. And it'll be interesting, considering our fantastic city is ripping up Ste-Catherine street throughout the festivities, causing the programming committee to deal with the loss of two stages.

EDITED TO ADD: Evelyn Reid has posted her more general and very thorough summary of the festival.

A couple of posts on Josh Rager's blog - one recent guest post from Toronto pianist Chris Donnelly, and an older one from Josh himself - have sparked my thought process. I want to specifically focus on the issue of students not showing up to teachers' gigs. As an educator myself now, and not long ago a student, I see both sides of this.

Chris and Josh, noting the absence and potential lack of interest of students at gigs by local musicians, is a sentiment echoed by many other players and teachers through the years. I agree with them that having local role models is vital - I owe a lot of the musician I've become to the time I spent hanging out at The Rex in Toronto as an impressionable teenager. I also agree with the idea, proffered in so many "why is jazz dying?" articles, that clubs and concert venues have become prohibitive to students, either through age restrictions, ticket prices and cover charges, or by drink minimums and the like. I was lucky - when I was growing up in Toronto, The Rex and Top O' the Senator were licensed as restaurants, not bars, which meant minors were allowed. I still have fond memories of being served iced tea in a pint glass at the Rex. The Senator even had student half-price Wednesdays. There seem to be two possible responses to Chris and Josh's questions:

1) the general lack of respect and recognition at a local level
2) a sense of reciprocity.

***

It's clear that priority, among audiences and presenters, will go to foreign artists (be it from out-of-town, out-of-province, or out-of-country) above the locals. If audiences ignore local artists, then clubs and festivals aren't necessarily wrong to bump locals down the ladder. But the regularity of certain artists at certain clubs can work to their detriment as well. The public can procrastinate without fearing too much repercussion - why go this month when I can see him next month? If enough people think that same way, we have empty rooms. The local scene absolutely has to be nurtured. I wish I had the definitive answer about how to do that. There's been so much written throughout the blogosphere about innovative arts presentation methods and how to get warm bodies in the door. Every city needs its equivalent of Search & Restore, and often I think it needs to come from the musicians ourselves. As important as blogs, radio, and (what little) print media (is left) are, we as musicians do more than anyone else to present and represent ourselves. We get to identify our own sense of collective and community and then spread those ideas and identities to the city, and the world.

***

What if we flip the equation and ask where are the teachers at the student gigs? Where is the support for young players outside of the classroom? I think for the most part, we tend to play for our peers - students go to fellow students' concerts, and the teachers hang out with each other as well. As much as that's lamentable, it's also understandable and normal. Perhaps there's more give-and-take, and more cross-generational mingling, than I'm seeing.

I definitely remember the initiative my classmates had in putting on recitals and booking gigs; even at the McGill combo nights at Upstairs I don't remember seeing profs that weren't adjudicating. At jam sessions, the students are often put together in one group, often later in the night, instead of being cajoled and educated on the spot by older players; by role models. I don't think that's effective for many reasons - primarily for the reason Josh mentioned in his recap of the John Patitucci clinic, that younger players should take every opportunity to play with the more experienced, and that a bunch of students scuffling together doesn't make for great music. And I wouldn't be surprised if, in part, the lack of student attendance at gigs is fuelled by the lack of support from their teachers (either perceived or real) and/or being shafted by one too many jam session hosts. My private instructors were generous with their involvement in my own music-making, and were honest if they couldn't make one of my recitals or gigs. I try to be as supportive and up-front with my own students.

There's likely other factors, the same factors that drive students to seek out their international idols versus their local mentors. Montreal is a far smaller city compared to New York, and to hang out at sessions and shows in either city means something very different. I love trading insights with fellow Montreal musicians after various concerts in town, but there's also a certain amount of perceived glamour and gravitas when you can rub elbows with [insert more famous jazz player] at [insert more famous jazz club]. Also, if we're dealing with a generation of students who have not checked out Thelonious Monk or "Carolina Shout," and choose instead to soak up every gesture of the under-40 jazz generation (Rosenwinkel, Monder, Mehldau, Glasper), then the more straightahead-leaning musician/educators are likely to be on the other side of a generation, tradition, and taste gap.

Yes, it's been a while since I've been at a jazz show myself. I realize that my show-going habits (when I'm not working myself) have leaned towards out-of-towners and non-jazz music. And we need to be honest about the fact that life just gets in the way of going to all the shows we would love to see, if we had all the time in the world and a couple of clones to fill in our places. Life gets in the way for students as well as professional musicians and teachers. None of this is to justify the behaviour of people who ignore their most valuable resources. If anything, it's to work towards rectifying it.

Public address system

Four announcements, not necessarily concerning me or my music, but concerning the work of friends and colleagues that I admire and respect.

1) Danish guitarist Torben Waldorff brings his "American Rock Beauty" tour to North America after a series of dates throughout Scandinavia. The band features Montrealers Joel Miller on saxophone and Fraser Hollins on bass (recent Juno winners through their contributions to Christine Jensen's Treelines), and Jon Wikan on drums. Waldorff's ArtistShare record features Wikan, Matt Clohesy, Donny McCaslin and Jon Cowherd. Beautiful, modern jazz in the vein of his sidemen's other affiliations. The North American tour dates are as follows:

April 1 - The Rex, Toronto; April 2 - Upstairs, Montreal; April 5 - Miles' Café, NYC. (I believe Matt Clohesy subs Fraser on bass for the NYC hit.)

2) Pianist/vocalist/songwriter Isis Giraldo and her group, Gozadera Salsa, launch their record April 3 at La Sala Rossa. The band is made up of McGill-trained musicians (including my Mantecoso bandmate Steven Salcedo on tenor sax and vocals) and incorporates a wide swath of Latin sounds. Giraldo is from Bogotá, and her lyrics speak to various social justice issues of Latin and South America. You can listen to her interview with me on the last edition of World Skip the Beat here. The young guns of the jazz/hip-hop band Ruckus Fo'tet open.

3) Due to events with which we are all too familiar, the 2011 edition of the Red Bull Music Academy will not be held in Tokyo. The new location will be announced April 11, and the application deadline has been extended until April 26. The dates of the two terms have not been changed. My best wishes to all of the Japanese RBMA family. (Stay tuned for an announcement of a fundraising concert here in Montreal.)

4) It's once again time for the Montreal Mirror's Best of Montreal poll. Once again, I ask current and ex-Montrealers to vote, and to specifically vote in the category of BEST JAZZ ACT and BEST JAZZ BAR. Christine Jensen just won a Juno, it would be nice if she could get some attention in what little written press we have left; the actuelle crew of Mardi Spaghetti just celebrated three years of improvised music on Tuesdays at Le Cagibi; the presenters at L'Envers have featured people ranging from Matana Roberts to Ben Monder and will present their final show at their current location April 30. The Montreal jazz community is as vibrant as ever, and we need to showcase it in its current, modern state. The trick with the Mirror is you have to fill out 25 categories for your ballot to count. Some advice in other categories:

Best radio station: CKUT

Best rep/art house cinema: Cinema du Parc

Best bagel: Fairmount (sorry, Saint-Viateur are a bit too hockey-puck-ish to my taste)

Best poutine: La Banquise

Best teahouse: Camellia sinensis

Best smoked meat: The Main (Schwartz's is the landmark, but the Main is just as good with half of the line-up)

Best non-chain coffee: Café Neve (they win because they have Brazilian espresso; Café Myriade is nearly as good)

Best locally-brewed beer: Tie - St-Ambroise/McAuslan and Dieu du Ciel. Try both.

Paloma, como simbolo de paz

My apologies for the blog silence. It's been a very busy few months around here. I've been working on two major, Latin-influenced projects, the first of which is premiering this week.

About a year ago or so, Butta Beats from Nomadic Massive came through Kalmunity and freestyled while I played a montuno over the groove. After the set, he pulled me aside and said "We gotta talk." He pitched the idea of a band that dealt with the classic salsa of legendary New York label Fania Records, but also integrated the history of the Latin influence in hip-hop. I was immediately on board and we started the ball rolling. Enter Mantecoso!

This project is débuting this Saturday, March 26, at Les Bobards (4328 St-Laurent), as part of the Afro-Latin Soul series, co-presented by Nomadic's Lou Piensa and San Juan Hill's Frank Rodriguez. The band is a great group of friends and some phenomenal musicians:

Butta Beats - vocals

Gitanjali Jain - vocals

Steve Salcedo - tenor sax

Matthieu van Vliet - trombone

DRR - piano

Mark Haynes - bass

Kullak Viger-Rojas - timbales

André Martin - congas/batá

I found the development of this band really intriguing, as it blended my jazz training with the hip-hop and groove music I've been playing a lot lately. Getting the music together was a multi-step process. Butta, Gitu, Mark and I were on board first, and we selected the repertoire together - we brainstormed a bunch of tunes that we each wanted to play, and then whittled that down into a cohesive set. Once the setlist was made, I went about transcribing the tunes, while Butta worked some hip-hop production magic, chopping up some of the tunes we had selected into beats. We then worked out arrangements and transitions, going from the original tunes into the flips, planning out the set as a file in Logic, like a DJ mix. I then made charts incorporating all this information.

Transcribing these tunes was a challenge, and also the deepest insight I've yet had into how the clave permeates and informs the tune structures; how composers and arrangers of the Fania era, especially Willie Colón, use odd numbers of bars to flip the clave, or use odd harmonic rhythm to give the illusion of different phrasing while the clave continues. Some of my favourite tunes were the most difficult to transcribe - on the surface, they sound effortless and natural, but digging into the inner workings of the tunes reveals layers upon layers of complexity, with breaks and harmonic left-turns. One tune in particular I sold to the band as being "just a descarga," a one-chord jam. And if you're not paying attention (as I evidently wasn't), it sounds like that; but it's riddled with punches, stops and extra bars. It might be the trickiest tune in the whole set. I suppose that's a commonality with all the music I love - music that's sophisticated but doesn't call attention to its own complexity.

For those who don't know about Fania Records, there's a great primer in PBS' Latin Music USA documentary (Part 2: the Salsa Revolution). And also, the quintessential Fania film, Our Latin Thing.

Find out what it means to me

Of course, the jazz blogosphere has been abuzz about Keith Jarrett's most recent outburst at Carnegie Hall. I've written about my Keith experiences before, and I hold fast to my sentiments: Jarrett is a masterful pianist, but I have absolutely no need to see him live anymore.

At Playjazzblog, the author makes the point that audience discourtesy has grown in recent years, with which I would not argue. A few years ago, I witnessed two stragglers walk in on the last song of a David Binney set at Casa del Popolo, and proceed to talk through Binney's solo at the foot of the stage. Binney was compelled to chastise the dude, and everyone in the house held no grudge towards Binney's behaviour. That's an extreme case, and I would wager that that kind of blatant and oblivious disrespect would warrant a Jarrett-esque reaction from anyone. As someone who attempts to suppress his coughs (without noisily wrapped lozenges, I might add), puts his phone on silent and leaves his camera in its pouch, the other reason I am in no hurry to see Jarrett again is because of the "atmosphere he has created," as he said in Montreal last year. I find that atmosphere highly stressful - going into Jarrett's concert at Place des Arts, I was more concerned with whether someone would sneeze or take a photo than with the beauty of the music that would be taking place. His notoriety for his tantrums have possibly led to provocative audience behaviour ("let's see what Keith will do when I piss him off this way") instead of creating the sanctuary he so obviously needs. Bruce Hornsby is equally picky, and on certain bootlegs you can hear him take down people with cutting humour, interjecting "Tell 'em what they missed!" to latecomers before returning to his verse on a dime.

On the flipside, how much artist disrespect should audiences put up with? With Lauryn Hill having performed here on Sunday, I see an interesting parallel to Keith Jarrett. I was not at that show so I'm only going off the previous reviews I have read and the flurry of activity on my Facebook feed. Like Jarrett, Hill's behaviour of late is as much a part of the spectacle as her music: would she show up? How late would she be? Would she be on her game or not? She only graced the Metropolis stage at 1 am, and delivered a set that was reportedly mixed at best, with some glimpses of her magical talent buried under ham-fisted rock arrangements. That fear is why I didn't buy a ticket to see one of the best soul singers of our generation. Miseducation is an inarguably fantastic album, but Hill has not been firing on all cylinders since. (What happened to that whole neo-soul crew anyway? Maxwell took ten years to resurface, D'Angelo is who-the-hell-knows-where...) But Metropolis was full. At what point will audiences back away? I suppose when they buy tickets to this show and somehow still expect "Walk on the Wild Side."

It's a balancing act to be sure. Perhaps it's because I'm an artist at a level where I don't have the luxury of being dictatorial to my audience, but I tend to err on the side of being welcoming, or at least trying to. I've had my fair share of nights where the talking crowd is overwhelming and intrudes on the bandstand. But I've never made a big deal of it on the mic, nor have I stormed off stage. If Jarrett decided to remain in his home studio and put out gems like Jasmine, I might be more compelled to put down my dough to witness his mastery live, warts, risk and all. But considering the vast majority of his output since 1983 has been recorded live, I'll stick with the documents of audiences that venerate Jarrett and allow him to create, and allow me to listen in privacy, free of coughs and camera flashes.

Every year's a souvenir that slowly fades away

Happy 2011 to everyone! There's been silence on this blog recently due to some very big projects. Some will be revealed later in the year; others follow below.

January 16, 2011 is Trio Bruxo's first show of the year at Bobards (4328 St-Laurent). We'll be playing our usual mix of samba-jazz, baião and Brazilian soul. 10 pm, $7.

January 17-18, 2011 marks the return of Gary Schwartz's LettingO: The Music and Influence of Ornette Coleman. I'm thrilled to be part of this project, looking at Ornette's music and our own compositions in a band that unites 11 of Montreal's best players. After two sold-out shows at Théâtre La Chapelle last January, we invade La Sala Rossa (4848 St-Laurent). Doors are at 7:30, $15 for students and artists, $20 for everyone else. If you can't make it to Montreal, the second night is being taped for CBC. More info on how to listen coming soon.

The band is as follows:

Gary Schwartz - guitar, effects, tunes, arrangements

Ron Di Lauro - trumpet

Alex Côté - soprano & tenor saxophones, arrangements

Erik Hove - alto sax

Frank Lozano - tenor sax & bass clarinet

Josh Zubot - violin

Jonathan Cayer - keyboards

David Ryshpan - piano & keyboards, arrangements

Nicolas Caloia - bass

Claude Lavergne - drums & percussion

Isaiah Ceccarelli - drums & percussion

(Christopher Smith has contributed arrangements as well; I think charts from others might be trickling in as well)

Rick Rosato, Gilad Hekselman & Ari Hoenig - 11/19/2010, Upstairs

For bassist Rick Rosato's final artist series weekend at Upstairs, he invited two musicians with whom he has a solid amount of playing history. The first time I had heard of guitarist Gilad Hekselman was when Ari Hoenig's Punk Bop! band played at Upstairs a few years ago, with Rosato in the rhythm section. Hekselman won me over with Anat Cohen's quartet a couple of years back at Jazz Fest, and Hoenig's melodic sense on the kit is unmatched.

I haven't heard Rick in years, since he moved to New York (and has since moved back to Montreal). When he left, he was a kid with a prodigious amount of talent. It was obvious from the opening "Boplicity" how mature a player he has become. He is definitely a bassist to listen for - a compelling soloist, a rock-solid foundation, and a blooming compositional voice. As much virtuosity was present on stage through the set, I was more taken with the amount of listening going on. Starting the set at a slow simmer, Hekselman let the melody slowly unravel as the trio hit subtle, unexpected accents in unison. Metric trickery was implied and hinted at, without overtaking the music.

The rest of the set was made up of mostly originals. Rosato's "Migrations" was a straight-eighth groove in 5/4 with Hekselman's fluidly overdriven solo. His is a very smooth tone, sometimes with almost no attack, just lines weaving and rolling into each other. A tune of Gilad's, "New York Angels," followed, peppered with what seemed to be sly quotes to Babe Ruth's "The Mexican." Hoenig started on brushes and eventually moved to sticks. Throughout the set, Hoenig would anchor his polyrhythms in grooves rooted in samba and New Orleans street beats. (Anyone who has followed this blog for a while, or has talked to me, knows what a sucker I am for those "between-the-cracks" kind of grooves.) Hekselman started a solo guitar intro at almost dead silent, barely amplified, that morphed into "Moonlight in Vermont." His almost pianistic choice of voicings and the development of that introduction was one of the highlights of the set. It ended with a series of false endings that almost, but not quite, wore out its welcome. After Hekselman's 6/8 feel "One More Song" and Rosato's "Origami," the set proper ended with Hoenig's "Green Spleen." Roaring out of the gate with heavily distorted power chords, the tune went through a set of rhythmic modulations, eventually landing in Clyde Stubblefield "Funky Drummer" mode.

Returning for a loudly demanded encore, the group played "Prelude to a Kiss," with Hoenig playing the melody (on pitch!) on kit, with Hekselman answering. It ended with a series of trades between Hekselman and Hoenig, a device that would have been terribly corny - or to use Kurt Rosenwinkel's famous phrase, "insider jazz" - if it weren't so well-executed and delivered with a palpable sense of humour. Indeed, there was a contagious sense of fun in the room, emanating from the stage. Bravo, Rick.

Bruxos na rua

It's time for Trio Bruxo to hit the road for our first series of concerts in Canada since our trip to São Paulo. It will be an intriguing three-day run: we will be incorporating music from our travels into our sets, and Nicolas and I will be playing with Pascal Lepage on drums.

Friday, November 26, 2010 we will return to Ottawa's Mercury Lounge (56 Byward Market Square). Bruxo played there over a year ago and I was there this summer alongside Rael da Rima. Our hit is an early show - doors at 7 pm and we are done by 10 pm because we have to make way for Detroit's MPC master extraordinaire, Jeremy AYRO Ellis. $10 at the door.

Saturday, November 27, 2010 we will be at the St. Lawrence Acoustic Stage in Morrisburg, ON. Organizer Jeanne Ward reached out to us to perform in this concert series and we're happy to be a part of it. The intimate atmosphere will let us explore the jazzier side of what we do, and get into some of the beautiful Brazilian ballads. This is another early show - 7 pm start time. Visit the St. Lawrence Stage site for ticket information.

Sunday, November 28, 2010 we end our mini-tour at Les Bobards (4328 St-Laurent). Sunday at Bobards is always a party atmosphere, and it's the landmark for Brazilian music in Montreal. This show is being co-promoted by the Brazilian Film Festival that we happen to coincide with; a fantastic festival showcasing the visual creativity of Brazil. 10 pm, $7 at the door.

A plug for our co-promoters: Do not miss the documentary on the Brazilian music scene, Beyond Ipanema, that they're screening. For those that want to discover what exists musically in Brazil beyond bossa nova, this is a great way to do so.

Soundstage

Yesterday, as part of the Salon de la musique indépendante de Montreal (SMIM), Philippe Laperrière offered a lecture on the mise-en-scène of a concert. Laperrière has worked with various artists in the Québecois pop scene. It was a refreshing perspective on stage presence in general, as Laperrière emphasized that mise-en-scène is not necessarily about the external elements of set design or lighting, but about the substance of the music. "You don't want to notice the mise-en-scène, you want to walk away saying 'That was a great show.'"

Laperrière chose to define "spectacle" or "show" as a meeting and exchange between the artist and the public. And surprisingly, much of his workflow and his conception of mise-en-scène can apply at all sizes of venues and across a multitude of styles. He was adamant that when he is hired as a metteur-en-scène he brings no preconceptions to the band, and allows the band to create their own ideas. He is merely a facilitator. Often, he works in the same way as a music producer, nurturing the good ideas and an external set of ears to dispel the false good ideas.

What struck me was Laperrière's emphasis on text. He will work one-on-one with the artist for a long period of time just on getting a sense of the lyrics, and the subtexts the artist wishes to convey with those songs. He often gets the artist to sing the songs for him a cappella, and to ensure that the themes are being communicated clearly. When the rehearsals begin with the band, he makes sure the entire band is clear on the themes of each tune. It brought to mind how many times I've been advised to learn the lyrics of standards, and what a musical difference that makes.

While mise-en-scène generally suggests some amount of codifying (a planned, structured setlist that determines much of the additional elements of stage production), Laperrière's comments on the relationship with the audience and pacing apply to all scenarios. "A performance does not rely on the number of people in the room," Laperrière said. You never know who could be among the five people in a club, so it is vital to give 100% of your show. I know I'm often disheartened by an empty club, and while it is depressing playing to a cavernous setting, it's a challenge.

One of his bullet points was "If the crowd is talking, ask yourself about what you're giving as a show," which is a point to which many jazz musicians can relate. Perhaps jazz musicians are fighting an unfair uphill battle about the perceived role that our music serves to the public (thank you Starbucks) that singer-songwriters and pop bands don't necessarily deal with, but it's still something to think about. How can we attempt to musically engage the (sometimes significant amount of) people at a jazz club that have not come there to hear the music, necessarily?

In thinking about mise-en-scène in relationship to improvised music, I believe it's important to have an improvisational approach to mise-en-scène as well. I plan my setlists for Indigone and Bruxo in advance, knowing certain venues, the potential audiences, and if there's another band on the bill, but I will also cut and paste on the fly, reading the crowd. Often, the room will have its own character that will influence the set. My years in radio have definitely shaped how I structure a set in terms of pacing and where and how often I talk. At the crux of what Laperrière is dealing with, I think, is a sensitivity to the content of one's music and an awareness of how to effectively communicate that to an audience visually. It can be small (like not leaving a water bottle at your feet, or the band releasing tension in unison into the verse), but those details leave lasting impressions on an audience.

Elizabeth Shepherd & Mike Evin, Le Divan Orange, 10/10/10

I'm more often performing for small, intimate audiences than I am a member of them. Seeing pianist/vocalist/songwriters Mike Evin and Elizabeth Shepherd populated by two handfuls of people felt like a very special communal experience. Thanksgiving Sunday's show at Le Divan Orange was a revelation for me, and everyone else that witnessed it.

I walked in during the second song of Mike's set. He's a very funny, affable guy and his songs are usually full of humour. His lyrics can be about domestication ("I Only Want to Brush my Teeth With You") and vignettes of life ("Shuffleboard Prince"), over chord progressions that hearken back to early Elton John and boogie-woogie piano. The only other time I've seen Mike was when I opened for him and Andy Creeggan at a house concert, so I've seen him interact with small audiences before. Playing on Divan's often-ignored upright piano added to the homey feel. Mike just finished a new album that has not been released yet, and from the tunes he played, there will be a gorgeous ballad on it called "Taking You With Me."

I've seen Elizabeth Shepherd twice before, in two very different settings: once at Maison du Jazz, and once at a packed Supermarket club in Toronto during the final IAJE conference. This show was far more conversational and confessional than the others; with a small but highly attentive audience, Elizabeth introduced her tunes with stories and insight that I had never known. Battling a cold ("I find it adds a touch of class to blow my nose onstage," she joked), her voice was still in great form and her piano playing was the anchor of the band. Her music has shifted from the overt jazz influences of Start to Move to tightly constructed, sophisticated pop songs on Heavy Falls the Night. It was the first of the three shows I've seen where she played exclusively her own compositions. Drummer Colin Kingsmore and bassist Scott Kemp have been her rhythm section for years, and their familiarity with each other is showing - Colin was really opening up the feel on her often odd-metered tunes. Colin and Scott were also singing backup, which added a welcome layer to the sound.

Elizabeth has been playing some small venues on this tour, and like someone else wrote on her Facebook page, "it was like having a Juno nominee in my living room." It was truly that way at Divan: embracing the people that were there and paying attention, Elizabeth and Mike offered their music, and themselves, letting us few listeners in on their secrets.

Bruxos in Brasil - Part 2

Day 7

On Monday, Nic and I had to switch hostels. I said to Nic that we should stop into Centro Cultural Rio Verde and say hi, as they had been integral to us securing the grant from OQAJ. We walked in, and within a few minutes vibraphonist/producer Guga Stroeter was showing us around Rio Verde and Sambatá studio across the street. Guga gave us newly released music from his Orquestra HB, a bunch of contact information for some of the top musicians in the city, and told us about a big band collective he's involved with called Movimento Elefantes. Comprised of a rotation of 10 big bands, they play every Monday at Maximiliano High School in Vila Madalena. Think about how many trombone players there must be in São Paulo! Guga also allowed us to use Rio Verde as a rehearsal space for our shows at Syndikat, and let us borrow Rio Verde's keyboard and a spare electric bass from Sambatá.

We moved from Vila Madalena Hostel to Sampa Hostel, located on rua Girassol in the heart of Vila Madalena. After we checked in and got acquainted with our new location, we went up the street to YB studios. One of the biggest recording studios, record labels and management firms in the city, Mauricio from YB was a fantastic resource in spreading the word about our trip among his artists. Nic and I showed up without an appointment, and once I explained in my limited Portuguese who we were, the receptionist let us in and told us to make ourselves at home. After waiting for Mauricio to finish up a phone meeting, he came down to meet us and showed us around the beautiful space, introducing us to artists who were hanging out in the café and allowing us to sit in on a mixing session.

That night, we went over to the high school to check out Big Band da Santa, a group of students and recent graduates from Santa Marcelina led by Paulo Tiné. I was not exactly sure what to expect - I was thinking they'd be playing the standard big band repertoire of Sammy Nestico and Thad Jones. Instead, we were greeted by big-band arrangements of Toninho Horta, Baden Powell, Moacir Santos and even some frevo arrangements. The American backbeat stuff was less convincing. Afterwards, we introduced ourselves to Paulo and, like every other musician we met, he was incredibly kind and helpful.

Day 8 & 9

On Tuesday, Nic and I headed over to Rio Verde in the afternoon, to work on some new tunes and get the rust off some of the usual repertoire. Not travelling with gear means limited opportunity for practice. After rehearsal, we took a detour to Isabella's Coffee Lab for an amazing cappuccino, and went back to Rio Verde to pack up the gear to take to Syndikat. Once the rainstorm subsided, we attempted to call a cab. Murilio Acioli helped us to explain the directions to Syndikat (which is located on a tiny street that no one really knows by name). We almost got into a two-taxi collision on Avenida Rebouças, and the driver blew by the street we needed to turn on. We did, eventually, arrive at Syndikat safe and sound. Wednesday night, since we left the gear at the club, I told the cab driver to leave us at the closest major intersection and we got there without incident.

Due to Mark's departure, the Syndikat gigs were done with drummer Carlos Ezequiel. A member of the faculty of Conservatório Souza Lima, Carlos is a highly regarded drummer in Brazil and elsewhere, playing with some of the finest musicians in São Paulo. We were put in contact by the Canadian Consulate in São Paulo, and it was a real education to play with him. The only way to learn about swingue is to play with Brazilian musicians, and I definitely had a better sense of that feel after the first night. Syndikat is a very intimate and cozy space, in the basement of the bar, with couches and tables close to the stage. The entire staff was friendly and accommodating, helping us set up and tear down. We were filmed on Wednesday night for a clip on TVA.

Day 10

Our final day in São Paulo. We returned the equipment to Rio Verde, and thanked Guga profoundly for all his assistance. He told us to swing by Sala Crisantempo on our way back to the hostel. A gorgeous theatre with a fantastic piano, they also host dance and pilates classes during the day. We had a final farewell lunch with Rael, and then we were off to the airport for the long flight home. Throughout the final week, Nic and I were already planning next year's trip.

Many thanks to/muito obrigado para:

• L'Office Québec-Amériques pour la jeunesse
• Liliane Braga
• Guga Stroeter & Centro Cultural Rio Verde
• Rael da Rima, Paulo M.Sario, Bruno du Braga Dupré & Cauê
• Amadeu Zoe @ Serralheria
• Caroline @ Jazz nos Fundos
• Letícia @ Syndikat
• Dino Verdade @ Bateras Beat
• Dina Thrascher at the Canadian Consulate
• Mauricio Tagliari @ YB
• Flávio de Souza
• Carlos Ezequiel
• Daniel Gralha
• Loco Sosa
• Túlio and the entire staff of Vila Madalena Hostel

and everyone else we met during the course of our trip.

Bruxos in Brasil - Part 1

Day 1 - Montreal

Due to last-minute ticket purchases, Nicolas was on a different flight than Mark and me. This shouldn't have been a problem as our flights were supposed to land within an hour of each other. Mark and I met at the bus station to hop the new STM airport shuttle bus. We left around 2:45, leaving more than enough time to get to the airport for a 6:15 pm flight. That was until the bus hit an empty schoolbus on the highway and lost a mirror, leaving us stuck on the highway for a good 45 minutes before being escorted off the highway by police, waiting for another shuttle that never came. We hopped in a cab and made it to the airport just after 4. After clearing security and customs quickly, Mark insisted on a celebratory pint. Smooth flying to Miami, and then upon landing we found out our flight from Miami to São Paulo was delayed until the next morning at 9 am. Can we get on the earlier flight, leaving in half an hour? No, our bags were already checked in on the other flight. Nic has no cell phone. Oh boy. We head to the hotel with our vouchers, I frantically send out e-mails to Nic and our Brazilian contacts, and fall asleep watching Whose Line is it Anyway?

Day 2 - São Paulo

We get up early to catch the 7 am shuttle to Miami Airport. No schoolbuses were encountered. The plane sits on the tarmac for another hour before takeoff. We land in São Paulo around 6:30 pm. Mark and I were sure Nic had left for the hostel on his own. We get our luggage relatively without incident - mine was the first bag off but Mark had to wait a while for his. As we get to the exit of the airport for a taxi, Nic greets us. He waited in the airport for 11 hours for us. We apologize profusely, tell him about our obstacles, and hop in the car for Pinheiros.

We arrive at Hostel Vila Madalena around 7 pm. There's no sign, just an address, a graffiti mural, and a gate. After checking in, and rescheduling our date with Syndikat Jazz Club, Rael da Rima and friends show up. We make plans for the next day's show, and then go exploring Vila Madalena for food and drink. When we got back to the hostel, they were blasting Banda Black Rio. I knew we were in the right place.

Day 3

I woke up to the sound of kids in the school above the hostel playing futebol and our breakfast was accompanied by a soundtrack of Airto Moreira, Cartola, Miles Davis and Charles Mingus. We travelled without gear, so most of the day was spent making arrangements with Rael and crew for gear. The host of the hostel, Túlio, was immensely helpful in allowing us to use his phone, and giving us maps and directions of the area. We walked down to Rua Teodoro Sampaio, the place for musical instruments in São Paulo. Six solid blocks of music stores - and none of them rent gear. We go in to get a feel for prices and availabilities. Since I didn't even bring my cables, I got a custom mini-to-1/4" cable made by a Japanese guy recommended by every single music store on the street.

We discover a Chilean empanada joint, El Guatón, a couple of blocks away from our hostel, which would become our go-to lunch and dinner spot. The first time was a little rough, as my Portuguese vocabulary did not contain many of the names of ingredients. We spent an inordinate amount of time studying the menu, surely confusing the waitress. Once we decided what to order, the empanadas were delicious.

We got a lift from Cauê, Rael's sax player, to Serralheria, a gallery/venue in the Lapa neighbourhood of São Paulo. A beautiful space with hardwood floors, we weren't sure about the bass amp situation. Owner Amadeu Zoe greeted us and brought out their massive bass amp from the back. Lapa is a bit removed from the music and arts centres of Vila Madalena, Pinheiros and rua Augusta, so the audience was small but supportive. It was great to finally play in São Paulo, after all the planning, the ups and downs and the stress. We were joined by M.Sario of Pentágono, and guitarist Bruno Dupré. There was a lot of jamming in soundcheck, and we ended the evening with versions of Pentágono's "É o moio" and Jorge Ben's "Umbabarauma."

Day 4

We prepared for the evening's show at Jazz nos Fundos by visiting their sponsor and drum provider, Bateras Beat. Owner Dino Verdade was immensely helpful, providing us with a great drum kit, cymbals, a tour of his store/school and even giving Mark a couple of Brazilian drum magazines.

Jazz nos Fundos ("jazz in the back") is literally in the back of a parking garage. It's a hidden space but in its five years has become the spot for jazz in Pinheiros. Manager Caroline was incredible throughout the planning of this trip. Our guest saxophonist, Flavio de Souza of Projetonave, arrived an hour before downbeat - we ran down the structure of the tunes and hit. Recommended to me by trumpeter Daniel Gralha (his horn-section mate in Projetonave), Flavio nailed the tunes on tenor and soprano. A fantastic player and great guy, we look forward to playing with him again. The audience at Jazz nos Fundos was incredible - a lot of the tunes we play are somewhat obscure in Canada but might as well be standards in Brazil. The entire club was singing along at points. Note to North American jazz clubs: the female quotient was much higher in São Paulo. The vibe in the entire club was fantastic - certainly not what I would expect to find in the back of a parking lot. Photos from the show are here. After we finished playing, they served us food and I discovered Cachaça Seleta.

Day 5

The first of our three days off, we went to the Saturday market in Praça Benedito Calixto. Nic bought some caxixi and postcards, Mark bought a great denim jacket, and I bought lots of records.

In the early evening, by the time we got to O do Borogodó it was full, so we stumbled another killing traditional samba band in a bar called Linha de Gato. The band would perform breaks with fantastic precision and incredible energy, all the while nonchalantly turning around to watch the game. We walked back down towards Pinheiros, had some Japanese yakisoba for dinner, and hopped in a cab towards Bar Ao Vivo in Moema to see the legendary Zimbo Trio.

Zimbo are part of the first generation of samba-jazz trios, and one of the most profound influences on the genesis of Trio Bruxo. We walked in to find them just beginning to set up while a DVD of Diana Krall played on two big screens. I went up to pianist and bandleader Amilton Godoy and introduced myself and the band in my broken Portuguese. Mr. Godoy and drummer Rubinho Barsotti could not have been nicer to us. We exchanged CDs and they seemed to be genuinely surprised and honoured that three young gringos from Canada know who they are and would come all the way out to Moema to see them.

From the opening of "Domingo no Parque" I knew we were in for a ride. Amilton and Rubinho are still in great shape, and have the intimate hookup that only comes from 45 years of playing together. Their sense of arrangement and Amilton's elegantly florid playing style reminded me of the Oscar Peterson trio. They even managed to make "Girl From Ipanema" interesting. After their "Suite Canção de amor demais," Amilton dedicated their arrangement of Hermeto Pascoal's "Bebê" to us, and introduced us from the stage. Rubinho left the stage and his successor, Pércio Sapia, took over, adding a much more contemporary sound to the band. They ended with a 35-minute medley of Milton Nascimento tunes. An absolutely stunning concert and an evening I will never forget.

Day 6

We were supposed to meet up with Rael's crew to go see Céu in Parque da Independência, but we forgot. Instead, we had breakfast at Pain du France - really, the amount of random French names in São Paulo was rather stunning - and then went sightseeing. We walked to Avenida Paulista, Parque Tenente Siqueira Campos, and the Museu de Artes de São Paulo, where an antiques market was being held. From there we walked down to Parque Ibirapuera, explored the gorgeous Auditório Ibirapuera and hung out near the Fonte Multimidia (a pond with a floating raft of speakers in it).

Mark had to leave, so we saw him off and then I went out to O do Borogodó again. To hear that kind of swingue in a tiny little bar, up close with everyone dancing, was inspirational and educational. The trombonist doubled on cuíca, there was a flute player who kept playing snippets of Hermeto's "Chorinho pra ele" until he finally played the whole thing, and lots of great singers and percussionists. Their rendition of Chico Buarque's "Quem te viu, quem te vê" grooved its behind off.

Community immunity

(Hat tip to Curtis Macdonald for the title of the post)

As I enter my 9th year of living in Montreal, I've been reflecting on the role that community has played in my life here. I moved here in 2002, a time when lots of very important musical collectives were formed. Kalmunity Vibe Collective started up at Sablo Kafé, a tiny little place in Little Italy, in 2003. Another improvisational event, Moondata's monthly LABProjects, happened in O Patro Vys for a few years in the mid-Oughts. The multi-lingual posse of Nomadic Massive started around 2003 or 2004. DJs Scott C and Andy Williams will celebrate the 8th anniversary of their monthly party, The Goods, later this month. Miles Perkin and Sage Reynolds staged a few Mont-Royal Composer's Forum concerts while I was still at McGill, and the musique actuelle scene is held together by communal spaces like l'Envers and the Mardi Spaghetti series at Cagibi.

To a certain extent, I've taken all these organizations for granted. I don't know an artistic reality in Montreal before them, and my own creative path is heavily indebted to these collectives in various ways. I've met a lot of musicians through all of these events; discovered and developed new sides of my own playing; and been turned onto a lot of new music and opportunities. They've also re-inforced the ideal of Montreal that I try to abide by at all times: the collision and collaboration of anglo-, franco- and allophone players; musicians and artists from different scenes creating together. I never really bought into the linguistic divide here, and while I do realize that it exists (given that I really don't know anything about anybody coming out of Université de Montréal, the francophone university here) I don't believe that it has to.

As social media becomes more prevalent and the internet makes the world smaller, this sense of community needs to extend itself. Thanks to my participation in workshops like the Banff Centre, the BMI Jazz Composer's Workshop, and the Red Bull Music Academy, I have been connected to like-minded musicians from around the world, many of whom I can still call colleagues and friends. I feel it's imperative for these connections to be made, through blogs, Facebook, Myspace, and the real world. The unofficial mandate of Trio Bruxo, for instance, is exactly that: because the Brazilian music community in Montreal is vibrant but tiny, I feel compelled to ally the group with similar musicians in Toronto, New York, and now São Paulo. One thing I've noticed in the past couple of months of intensive Brazilian gigs is that there is a split within the Brazilian music community: the audience for our show at Afro-Latin Soul and just a couple of nights ago at Casa del Popolo is not the same as the audience regularly at the Sunday nights at Bobards. There's very little overlap. And that scene is far too small as it is for it to be divided in half.

Patrick Jarenwattananon at A Blog Supreme recently asked about the Great Unknowns in jazz, and one commenter replied that it boiled down to anyone not living in NYC. While it's snarky, it is true. While saxophonists Joel Miller and Samuel Blais have done well in forging links with various well-known American musicians in bringing them up to Montreal, I don't know that it's necessarily helpful in bolstering their own reputation south of our border. That's not even to mention important educators and my own personal mentors like Gary Schwartz, Rémi Bolduc (given some love here by Peter Hum), or Jeff Johnston.

It's impossible to know about everything and everyone, but I place the utmost importance in creating musical communities. I find them fundamental in two ways: on a creative level, they allow for open environments to share ideas; and on a commercial level, they can be brands, attesting to certain allegiances and similarities.

O resto eu vejo depois

For those who missed Afro-Latin Soul at Bobards last Saturday, here's video evidence courtesy of Liliane Braga:

It was a pleasure to work with Rael da Rima. He and I will play duo at Ottawa's Mercury Lounge on Friday, August 6.

And this video also is a testament to Trio Bruxo's project in São Paulo this fall, with the aid of l'Office Québec-Amériques pour la jeunesse. I firmly believe that the world of Brazilian musicians is small, and with the Internet, there's no reason for all of us not to be connected with each other. Musicians in Montreal, Toronto, New York and Brazil should all be working together to create opportunities for each other. With Rael and many other artists in São Paulo, this is what we're aiming to do in September.

Our final fundraiser concert for our trip is AUGUST 19, 2010 at Casa del Popolo (4873 St-Laurent). $10 at the door helps us get to São Paulo, to bring back some incredible music to Canada.

FIJM 2010: final days

Got caught up in the whirlwind of my post-Jazz Fest life and realized I did not wrap things up here.

July 4 was Allen Toussaint day. You can read my account of the solo show at Gésu at Nextbop.

July 5: I arrived a few minutes late for the Dave Brubeck press conference. It was a true honour to be in the same room as him, to hear him talk mostly about his links between classical and jazz, and some of his history. He quoted what Mingus said about him: "To know if Dave is playing jazz, just look at the audience's feet when he plays!" Right after I whispered to Vy from Nextbop if anyone had asked about his studies with Milhaud, Brubeck mentioned one of Milhaud's pieces of advice: "Don't give up jazz. It's what makes you American. You can survive anywhere there's a piano! I have to go to universities and suffer through faculty meetings!" A lot of chronological details escaped Brubeck and were left to manager/producer/conductor Russell Gloyd. I got to shake the man's hand and tell him the truth: if it weren't for Time Out I would not be a jazz pianist.

More press conferences: My boys in Parc-X Trio won the Grand Prix this year. Can't think a better bunch of guys to take it. All the best to them! Don Thompson was awarded the Oscar Peterson prize, for outstanding contributions to Canadian jazz. He gave a brief interview and was obviously a little stunned by the whole award. Hearing Thompson talk about how the scene isn't like it was in the good old days left me ambivalent - normally I would write it off as just nostalgia, but he made a valid point. There are no house rhythm sections in clubs to play for touring artists anymore, and so a lot of that on-the-bandstand trial-by-fire education no longer exists. Those rigorous playing opportunities of three or four sets a night, five days a week, are very much a thing of the past. The musicians now, Thompson said, are as good as they've ever been and have so much information at their fingertips via YouTube. There is the risk, though, that we can begin to take that information for granted because we don't have to wait for it and treat it like a major event.

Onto the music. I caught about an hour of Karen Young, Eric Auclair and Bugge Wesseltoft. Having missed Bugge's solo set at Chapelle de Bon-Pasteur I was happy to see him in this group. WWPV-FM's David Beckett had seen the solo recital, and we had been talking about Bruce Hornsby in a somewhat unrelated manner. I wouldn't normally think of Bugge and Bruce in the same sentence, but they do share a pastoral sense of tonality. Both Auclair and Wesseltoft have extensive experience with live electronics and sampling, and both of them were manipulating their own sounds, triggering loops. Young was at her best soaring over the sound with wordless vocal improvisations. Her voice, for my taste, was drowned in way too much artificial reverb. The poetry she had written to the pieces composed by Auclair were not really to my taste either; at points it felt like the text and music were somewhat forced together, not part of a cohesive whole. Young was visibly engaged with Wesseltoft, though, and for having only met at soundcheck the Norwegian pianist shared great chemistry with the two Montrealers.

I caught the Orchestre Septentrional d'Haiti on the Tropiques stage. The musical institution of that country delivered a solid, joyous set of kompa to an eager crowd. Then it was off to Emir Kusturica's No Smoking Orchestra, which was more a provocateur rock show than I think most people expected. In a blue spandex Batman-meets-Mexican-wrestler outfit, Kusturica's lead singer prowled the stage, pumping his fists, interacting with his musicians, creating chants of "Are you agree? [sic] FUCK YOU MTV!". I enjoyed the parts that incorporated traditional folk-like melodies, just because it was the strongest musically, and generally featured the phenomenal violinist. The "Smoke on the Water" intro to something was hilarious. In general, they were not very compelling or strong as a pure rock band. If I want world-punk, I'll take Manu Chao.

July 6: final day. The heatwave is on. Secured a spot on the Christ Church Cathedral steps to watch the Mardi Gras parade, featuring some of the real floats from New Orleans, various bands from here and abroad, a nod to Brazilian Carnaval with the batucada from Estação da luz, and (this is something I never want to hear again) bagpipers playing "When The Saints Go Marching In." Made it through the crowd, somehow, to catch the last half of Zachary Richard's set, with David Torkanowsky on piano. The Soul Rebels Brass Band walked through the crowd and played an all-too-brief set of new-school brass band music. Trombone Shorty took the stage - I knew he was a phenomenal trumpet player and trombonist but he's also a great singer! The band was incredibly tight, nailing NOLA and Oakland-style funk, an Isley Brothers-esque slow jam, and a roaring cover of the Guess Who's "American Woman." The crowd thinned out as Allen Toussaint took the stage, introduced as the "High Priest of New Orleans music." He played all the tunes I wanted to hear in the solo show - "Who's Gonna Help Brother Get Further?", "Get Out My Life, Woman," and all the classic New Orleans R&B he's crafted. He only repeated a couple of tunes from Sunday's recital, including "Southern Nights." Don Byron took a guest spot on "Bright Mississippi." The whole bash concluded with Soul Rebels at midnight in L'Astral, cranking out hard-grooving covers of "I Want You Back," "Could You Be Loved," Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy," and many many more. Another Jazzofolie (term courtesy Mark Nelson) over.

FIJM Day 9

Keith Jarrett's concert in Wilfrid-Pelletier was preceded by an additional announcement beyond the usual "Bell thanks you in advance for turning off your cell phones and all other devices with an alarm": "Flash photography and video is explicitly prohibited throughout the entire concert, including the bows. This is a request from the artists themselves and we ask you to respect their wishes." Visions of Umbria danced in my head.

Musically, it was peerless. Jarrett's touch is still second-to-none, ranging from the opening "You Go To My Head" as a Bud Powell-ish medium swing, the heart-melting balladry of "Too Young to Go Steady," and the impossible task of making uptempo romps through "Autumn Leaves" and "All the Things You Are" captivating and intriguing. His double-time lines are full of invention and exploration, and when he sinks his teeth into more stock bebop and blues phrases they have a sense of catharsis and authority. Gary Peacock had a less aggressively amped sound than I remember, his solos concise statements. Jack DeJohnette at times threatened to overwhelm Keith, nailing the dirty gospel-blues in the first set and providing the most unpredictable yet entirely perfect fills throughout the whole concert.

Temperamentally, it seemed Keith was in better spirits than usual. There were coughs and he played through them. There was an inordinate amount of time between two tunes, and during the negotiations he joked "Three heads are better than one." Jarrett paced around the piano during much of Peacock's solos and was constantly drinking fluids and at one point seemingly taking medication. They repeated the "No flash photos even during the bows" announcement as we returned from intermission. At the end, they walked off during a standing ovation, returned for a second bow, and by popular demand they returned to the stage. Yet some moron decided to take a flash photo. Here's what ensued:

It's obvious I have created an atmosphere where I don't even have to say anything and everyone knows what is going on. So, the people behind that person, take their camera away and I'll shut up.

Walk offstage. House lights up. No encore.

You know what? From now on, I will celebrate Keith's FIJM appearances by playing Tokyo '96 and Whisper Not in the comfort of my own home, where I can wheeze and sneeze as I please. I wonder if there will ever be a critical mass of people fed up with Jarrett's antics who will just buy the records and stop going to the concerts. Fair enough - there really is nothing like hearing Keith's command of the piano live, to be in the same room as the trio creates spectacular versions of standards. But the records come close, and the mastery and vocabulary has been the same for 27 years, and it's much less expensive and a more pleasurable listening environment, quite frankly.

The Ninja Tune party at Metropolis was the perfect palate cleanser. No pretension, no diva behaviour. Just Mr. Scruff rocking the house with a set full of reggae, afrobeat, salsa and funk and potato-head animation shouting out various Montreal neighbourhoods and advising us: "Warning: Incoming bassline alert!" Perhaps Jarrett should adopt the same proviso: "Caution: virtuoso pianist with God complex ahead. Tread lightly."

FIJM Day 8

Gretchen Parlato is a very savvy vocalist. She knows the capabilities and role of her voice and uses her musicians and arrangements to frame them to their fullest. With her band of Taylor Eigsti on piano and keyboard, Alan Hampton on bass and Otis Brown III on drums, she captivated a sold-out Savoy. Using the presentation formula of every traditional jazz singer - band performing an intro, vocalist coming on last and leaving first, band vamping out and introductions over the last tune - made her repertoire choices and delivery all the more striking. Parlato and Eigsti had a fantastic interaction, Parlato feeding Eigsti melodies and Eigsti providing intriguing, inspiring harmonic beds for Parlato. They previewed some brand new material from an album to be recorded in August, produced by Robert Glasper. Parlato's two new originals, "Better Than" and "Winter Wind" have that Glasper kind of gloss to them already - an R&B sensibility with unpredictable twists and turns. Her duo with Brown on "Doralice" was a rhythmic masterpiece and Brown laid into a phenomenal partido alto samba feel.

Setlist: Within Me; Butterfly; On the Other Side; Doralice; Better Than; I Can't Help It (setbreak); Blue in Green (as a swinging hip-hop inflected tune); Juju; Me and You; Winter Wind; Ugly Beauty (duo w/ Eigsti); Weak.

***

Adam Rudolph's set was, frankly, plagued by all sorts of disappointments. I had high hopes for this show, solidified by the promise of his album Dream Garden and his work with Yusef Lateef. Gésu was half-empty and the concert started more than 20 minutes late, due to bassist Jerome Harris running over from his earlier show with Jack DeJohnette. Both reed players from the album (Ned Rothenberg and Steve Gorn) were absent, replaced by Ralph Jones. Graham Haynes was on flugel, trumpet, and borrowed a couple of flutes from Jones. Brahim Fribgane was the revelation of the festival for me, on cajon, frame drums and oud. Kenny Wessel was on electric guitar and banjo.

They opened with the steamrolling percussiveness of "Oshogbo," Fribgane's cajon and Rudolph's congas locked into each other with the horns cueing small figures and guitar swells. It then broke down into an open, free section of bowed bells, gongs and "little instruments" reminiscent of the Art Ensemble, except it was painfully static and not moving towards anything. I found Jones, throughout, to be distracting and interruptive - some beautiful moments courtesy of Fribgane and Rudolph would be derailed by Jones picking up another ethnic flute and noodling on it off-mic. Wessel seemed to be in his own world, not listening or responding to anything else going on. That's fine, though it either needed someone else also improvising out of context or he needed to lay out more. There were fragments of potential themes, melodies and rhythms that never cohered or moved anywhere. It picked up steam in the last third of the concert, with a meditative raga-like piece in D with a repetitive melody chased around the group, and another uptempo theme in Eb.

If the concert had been a half-hour shorter and the interludes more condensed, it would have been a thrilling mixture of folkloric rhythms and free improvisation. As it stood, it was a concept unrealized and promise unfulfilled.

FIJM Day 7

Last night's shows on the TD Stage were two bands who have one foot in the jazz tradition and one foot in forward-thinking electronica and groove music.

Toronto bassist Rich Brown and his band rinsethealgorithm took the stage at 6 pm, playing music from their album Locutions. Throughout the set, elements of Rich's experience with Andy Milne and Steve Coleman were mixed with a smoother R&B gloss and inspiration from London's broken-beat scene. Drummer Larnell Lewis was taking his cues as much from the drum programming of Bugz in the Attic as Steve Coleman's phenomenal history of drummers. I grew up listening to pianist Robi Botos in Toronto, hearing him in acoustic jazz contexts at the Rex. He also has a tremendous pocket, unleashing a funky clavinet solo on the final tune and creating pad-laden atmospheres behind Brown's heartstring-tugging bass solos. I could have used more of Botos and saxophonist Luiz Deniz in the mix - Deniz was a bit drowned out but his solos were full of intensity and invention.

José James and his band followed up with two sets of music drawn from their album Blackmagic, along with some tracks from The Dreamer and white-label releases. The 9 pm set was plagued by terrible sound - James' lower mid register fell victim to a massive, distracting woofiness, and Frank LoCrasto's Rhodes was lost entirely. They still rose above it with fantastic versions of Freestyle Fellowship's "Parkbench People" (based on "Red Clay") and Coltrane's "Equinox." Richard Spaven is the perfect drummer for this band, stomping the Flying Lotus beats from Blackmagic as well as swinging his ass off on "Equinox." Bassist Chris Smith, a new name for me, matched Spaven's pocket the whole way through. LoCrasto's rich harmonic palette was on display in his many solo turns. The 11 pm set was much better sonically and it showed, as the band seemed to be a lot more at ease on stage. The Rhodes was clearer, and there was almost no woof to be heard. The only repeated tune in the two hour-long sets was "Electromagnetic," delivered in two entirely different versions. James' improvisations are superb. He nailed upper extensions with perfect intonation, hanging out on the #11 of the final chord of "Save Your Love For Me" and laying into the 6ths on "Equinox" and a couple of other tunes. In the 11 pm set he was really digging into Spaven, engaging him with extremely quick passages of scat but also more generally in the whole time feel. The highlight of the second set was his interpolation of "A Love Supreme" (with all of its harmonic complexity) into another tune. His phrasing is obviously indebted to hip-hop, especially in the way he would chop the phrase of a tune the way a DJ would scratch a record, but also to the laidback phrasing of Billie Holiday and Andy Bey. James is proving to be the epitome of a 21st-century male jazz singer.