Vancouver International Jazz Festival
June 20th - July 1st, 2003

The topic for the Jazz Journalists Association's panel discussion at this year's festival was: "Jazz is an international music. Why don't more critics and festivals treat it that way?" Certainly not a question suitable for this particular event. Musicians came from all parts of Canada, Holland, Germany, England, France, Switzerland, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Cuba, Africa and even the USAmerica. The opening event at the Cultch set all of this in motion with Michael Moore's (USAmerica/Holland) White Widow, a quartet completed by pianist Achim Kaufmann (Germany), bassist Mark Helias (USAmerica) and drummer Han Bennink (Holland), revealing an unlikely swing group operating within the framework of Moore's uncomplicated tunes, often seeming to be ready-made standards. Add a touch of old fashioned avant garde and off we go.

Ten days is a long time to concentrate on live music, especially when the program is chock-full of goodies, so it is necessary to thread ones way through the labyrinth of possibilities and select a couple or three a day so that everything does not become a blur. The first five days are resplendent with Dutch based artists.

DUTCH TREATS

Among the many reasons for this being such a superb festival is the organizers' ability to co-ordinate with international funding agencies, thus making it possible for unusual artists to appear in Vancouver on a regular basis. In particular the Dutch, many who have developed local fan clubs. This means that instead of, like many other large festivals, presenting stars at big ticket venues, they have developed an audience for what might be considered, especially in the USAmerica, to be eclectic and certainly not jazz music. However, if one pays attention to the content of the music it will become apparent that much of the Dutch music is closer to "real jazz" than the retrogressive junk that much of the music has become. This was superbly illustrated numerous times in the first five days.

Apart from the already mentioned White Widow, there were three other groups who performed dazzling, exceptional music, often utilizing some of the same players. The first, the quintet of pianist Frank van Bommel, provided yet another version of "Dutch Swing", this time reinterpreting the music of the obscure, somewhat mythologised Dick Twardzik. With reedists Moore and Tobias Delius, the latter's swaggering brute tenor reminding us of a gentle giant named Ben, and the complete rhythm section of bassist Arjen Gorter and drummer Martin van Duynhoven the music evolved from the leader's neatly arranged compositions into healthy free blowing. It seems, over the years, that much of the Dutch music has been influenced by the cool abstracted bop of Lennie Tristano and his cohorts, with a splash of Monk added. Stirred not Shaken.

Next up a quartet of South African saxophonist Sean Bergin, Delius, Helias and local drummer Dylan van der Schyff, continuing the international flavour. The joyful noise was full of anthems of lost love, from those other times with the Brotherhood of Breath, the Kwela songs introduced to the powerful improvisations. Pulling at my heart strings. A joyous exuberant night with everyone, I mean everyone, in perfect accord. Oh I do miss the South Africans so much.

And then Ornette-ology. Eric Boeren has led a marvellous quartet of Moore, bassist Wilbur de Joode and Bennink for more than five years, performing music composed or inspired by Ornette Coleman. A wonderful quartet, ebullient and content, judging from the 2 CDs that exist. This time the group is enlarged with Sean Bergin's powerful alto playing, making what was a tidy band into a raving feast of raggedy assed energy. Three horns igniting with the finest rhythm section on the planet. No slavish repertory music here, no gimmicks, a salvation from the dreary shit promoted by the USAmerican mainstream. A new meaning to the description Hot Jazz. A wonderful version of "Beauty Is A Rare Thing" - Indeed it is. Thank you Eric, Ornette would love this band.

DUETS

Three duets remain firmly ensconced in my mind.

The first is between Vancouver pianist Paul Plimley and bassist Mark Helias in the intimacy of the Western Front. Two melodic masters dancing in accord, lushly expansive. A provocative music fluidly intermeshed, all woody, a bow groan, or the strings' vast array. A familiar generosity unravelling the mysteries hidden in their instruments, sharing music in a way that makes me suspect they are friends. The elite among the improvisers.

Secondly a strange duet of the much written about Japanese pianist Satoko Fujii and trumpeter Natsuki Tamura. Again at Western Front. There seemed no hint of Zen or the sound of Japan, with the exception of one piano solo, more like a thoughtful, deliberate melodic music, the trumpet supplying lots of sliding notes, half valveing with a very pure brass tone. Perhaps improvised classical music, if there is such a genre.

Later the same evening, back at the Cultch, is the duet of Kenny Wheeler and John Taylor, two old mates together, doing what they love to do before a full house of enthusiastic fans. Even being recorded by the CBC. Beautiful elegant tunes, mostly by Ken, that with the exception of a tango in the middle of the program, were all played on flugelhorn. The decades of togetherness is apparent with the brass lines unfurling atop the luscious piano interaction. Elder statesmen, humble and brilliant. One composition was announced by Mr. Taylor — Kenny was never one to talk much — as "Composition 114", indicating just how much material Mr. Wheeler has contributed to the jazz songbook.

IMPROVISATION

I have written before about improvised music being a genre, existing in a certain time — a certain moment. For me it has been driven by particular moments in personal histories, Ornette, CT and Coltrane being at the real beginning, and then the personal manifestation being the British, German and Dutch contributions that are often connected to some part of politics, moments of change within the existing structure. As with the other styles of jazz, although I am not convinced that much of improvised music is connected longitudinally to jazz, it cannot be imitated if serious results are expected. I understand that putting inexperienced players with acknowledged masters may be a generous gesture, a learning experience, but it rarely seems to produce music of consequence. Even matching players of similar inclination does not necessarily generate the imagined results. Improvised music can at times be a secret art, the messages hidden from all except the players themselves, and when it is understood and appreciated by the listeners, the moment of art has been achieved.

There were few moments of improvised music that reached the level that I have been privy to hear over my lifetime, and perhaps I am jaded or overexposed to this art-form, but one of the real highlights came from the unlikely quartet of trombonist George Lewis, pianist Marilyn Crispell, drummer Hamid Drake and kotoist Miya Masaoka. It is some time since I have seriously considered USAmerican improvised music as a creative form, seeing as how much of the music has been taken over by parroting and mimicry, but this was a remarkable evening. George appeared as the nominal leader, perhaps because he was sat at the front of the stage. His projection, apart from his phenomenal vocabulary, was occasionally comic, adding a certain warmth to the occasion. Exquisitely imagined compositions with Marilyn the perfect foil, mostly brisk and dexterous, and Hamid subtley intruding with imagined rhythms, a fractured swing. I have no particular liking for the koto, but there were many moments when it fit within the pieces, especially in the quieter duets. An extraordinary idea from whoever dreamed up this eclectic combination.

There were as always odd moments and meetings with friends, the inclusion of such brilliant players as Wolfgang Fuchs, Joelle Léandre, Eddie Prevost and Paul Rutherford; a multi-media event by Italian Roberto Paci Dalò, and an ending to it all at the Commodore Ballroom with Orchestra Baobob's melange of Afro-Cuban rhumba.

A wonderful time; Wimbledon on tv, George Bowering's History of Canada for late night reading, great weather, and as I have now become a Senior Citizen receiving regular cheques from the government, perhaps the first time I've ever been able to afford to attend a festival as a jazz writer.