2003 Vancouver International Jazz Festival Diary
Day 4- Monday, June 24, 2003
Pago Libre
Wanted to start the day with Jillian Lebeck’s Quartet over at the CBC, but due to late-night activities the night before at O’Doul’s and morning writing duties, was not able to make that one. So the jazz day started at 3pm with Pago Libre, this time without guests Peggy Lee and Dylan van der Schyff, at Performance Works, yet another of Vancouver’s excellent rooms to hear music. Of course at a free gig just down the way from tourist central, the atmosphere is gonna be a little different, but it was nice to find the crowd interested and listening and appreciative of these fantastic musicians from various European countries. Not too much coming-and-going as you might find at many free gigs, which is great if you’re hanging out in the back and actually want to listen to the music without much distraction. A less intense gig, to be sure, due to the size of the room, the outside distraction and the lack of pressure to play as a tight unit with guests, but overall, another chance to see terrific musicians perform with an uncommon joy before an appreciative crowd.
Eddie Prevost Trio
Had walked into Studio 16 a couple of nights previous just in time for the end of this trio’s set, but found myself with another chance and in the Western Front, no less. The physical influences and psychological vibes in that room intensify the listening experience in a fashion simulating physical intoxication. The combination of the (sometimes too) warm temperature, the compact size, the audience a bit squished in there together and the expectation and anxiety in the air hoping and praying for greatness. Of all the venues I’ve heard live music in over the years, I would have to say that the Front is the one I’ve had the most intense listening experiences in. And Eddie Prevost’s amazing, heavy, intense trio was one of the finest trips I’ve taken. My notes from the set: “I don’t know why it is that sometimes when I’m listening to improv, everything just suddenly starts to make sense. I know that to some improv sounds like a lot of random, senseless noise, but it really does have a rhyme and reason, to to speak. The good stuff and you know it when it clicks for you is an unreal experience of somewhat organized chaos that no one can predict and which makes the rest of the world of a similar organized chaos around you seem maybe not so fucked up. Half the time I couldn’t recount afterwards what had happened on stage, but I can tell you that it made me feel and how it allowed my mind to open up and process at a breakneck speed, in time with the music. Like now, for example, listening to the Eddie Prevost Trio wailing away with semi-patternistic squawks, squeaks, plucking and thundering, relentless drums so loud I can feel it all through the floor, I feel very nearly perfectly passionately alive, content and full of every possibility in the world. Part of me wants to understand the theories of how these players function in this create-in-an-instant mode of ‘out’ music-making, but more of me doesn’t want to look behind the curtain for fear of ruining it. I work in the film industry and though I haven’t seem it all by any means, much of the magic of movie-making isn’t so magical. Music is too sacred to do that to, for the moment at least.” A set that will live long in the memory of many music fans lucky enough to witness it. Unreal. (Eddie Prevost/drums; John Edwards/bass; Tom Chant;soprano sax.)
Jill Townsend Big Band
What to follow a life-affirming intense experience with? A big band, naturally. Off to The Cellar for the Jill Townsend Big Band. From the first loud, big, beautiful note that room knew it was in for a treat. Took me right back to high school band class to hear the sound of a big band. What a smart woman Jill Townsend is to put together a group like this that makes people so happy to hear, but to populate it with some of the very best players around. I mean, how often do you get to hear ‘Caravan’ these days? And no, I don’t mean all twisted up and distorted in a modern interpretation (which is fine, by the way), but in its classic sense? Despite being sandwiched on that small stage, and overflowing out on the floor where several of the 16 musicians could’ve picked food off the plates of diners, they swung hard and we dug it. What great fun. What list 16 musicians? Hell yes, this is the web, we can put in as much as we want:
Jill Townsend conductor
Ross Taggart tenor sax
Jack Stafford alto sax, clarinet, flute
Campbell Ryga alto sax, soprano sax
Alvin Cornista tenor sax
Chris Startup tenor sax, bass clarinet
Rod Murray trombone
Dennis Esson trombone
Bill Trussle trombone
Neil Nicholson trombone
Brad Turner trumpet
Robin Shier trumpet
Derry Byrne trumpet
Henry Christian trumpet
Bill Coon guitar
André Lachance bass
Dave Robbins - drums
Joshua Redman’s Elastic Band
After his last appearance here for a great show at the Vogue a couple of years ago, I had to pop in to see what was up with his new ‘groove’ band. Redman’s a technically fantastic player, to be sure, but I found this a little slick and showy and besides Dave Liebman was playing across town right at that very minute.
Michael Zilber Group with Dave Liebman and Steve Smith
Continuing my night of abrupt musical gear-switching, stepped into the sanctuary known as the Cultch to a steaming hot room of big ears listening to one of THE saxophone masters. Yep, lotta horn players there. Liebman was having some sort of undisclosed technical problem, and was slouched in his chair for most of what I saw, and this didn’t seem to be a good sign. Not to mention I was too hyper and had an unexpected case of jazz fest overload: my ears were overflowing from all that I’d heard in the previous few hours and I wasn’t hearing anything. Very strange feeling. What to do but try something somewhere else.
Fredrik Nordström Quintet
Had been undecided about how my late-night activities would play out until I was advised by a well-placed source to check out the Fredrik Nordström Quintet playing the late show at the official fest hang, Studio 16. Half the people show up for the music, the other half for the scene and to decompress with a cocktail and go over the day’s events with friends. Was in the front row for the first set and the group seemed to get off to a slow start, almost seeming unsure of the volume with which they might play in such a small, heavily populated room. But they got over it very quickly and gave us a solid thrashing of Nordström-penned compositions that felt great being two feet from the band, but I’m not so sure I would’ve enjoyed so much from the back row. I don’t know why I think it just didn’t touch me, but I certainly could appreciate the skill and ferocity with which the players were going at it, particularly the vibraphonist Matthias Stâhl. The intensity of his physical interaction with his instrument was an eye-opening kick to watch and listen to. The prize for the coolest musician name so far in the fest goes to trumpeter Magnus Broo. Would love to hear these guys another time when my cup was not so overfloweth.
(Nordström/tenor sax; Filip Augustson/bass; Fredrik Rundqvikst/drums).
Jam Session With Mike Allen Trio
One more twist in a zig-zag day of musical extremes brought me to the comfortable confines of O’Doul’s where I knew I’d hear kickin’ music that my fried brain could take. Word is getting around that the jam is happening I arrived to a standing room-only crowd, which included plenty of new faces among the ranks of the musicians eager to get up and show what they’ve got. Oh, and the likes of Dave Liebman and Steve Smith and co. relaxing (and listening, no doubt) after their earlier gig. Of course it wasn’t long before Liebman hobbled over to the stage on crutches (perhaps explaining the slouched-over position I’d seen earlier, methinks), opened his bag and pulled out his soprano mid-song, to the astonishment of all, particularly the young musicians on stage who found themselves suddenly playing with Dave Liebman. What a trip! I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many wide eyes in one place. And he was just getting warmed up - I think he played four or five tunes in all. And I do believe every musician sitting in got a chance to play with Liebman, who, after admiring session leader and knockout player himself Mike Allen’s gorgeous silver tenor, was presented with it to try as Allen watched his baby sing a different tune in some much-admired other hands. Wow! Liebman just smoked and his fiery, fierce soloing upped the ante on the jam as he encouraged the other players to follow and join in with some awesome call and answer moments. As if I could forget to mention, drummer Steve Smith join in for the last two tunes, as well, expanding on the thrilling ride for all. This was the Liebman experience I, too, was hoping for and am overjoyed to have had.
P.S. Listened to Audioslave’s recent eponymous disc while writing this. Well, something had to pummel yesterday out of my head and clear the way for today, and I can’t think of anything better than shit-kicking, head-thrashing, scream-along assaulting rock and roll.
Diary Day 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Got your own opinion on what went down? Visit the Jazz Forum.
Diary Day 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Writer/Photographer Josephine Ochej is a regular contributor to The Jazz Review, the Westender, Planet Jazz, and Coda Magazine.