2004 Vancouver International Jazz Festival Diary
Well, it didn't go out with a whimper, but it wasn't a bang exactly either. The dream is over. Again. Man, once it hits its stride, it sure goes fast. Even with the overload spaz-out in the middle. I'm still rather stunned and in a little bit of denial, but I seem to be able to get out of bed in the morning, which is something new this year. Plus, it's not like we've been left completely devastated - as the Man says on the main page of this site: Vancouver IS a jazz festival all year long. I, for one, will continue to get out to as much as I can throughout the year - I couldn't function without it, quite frankly. If I go too long without good music (which usually means jazz or improv or the like) I get antsy, and sometimes don't know what's wrong until I get to a show and the relief comes.
Michael Blake "Blake Tartare" - Festival Hall @ The Roundhouse
If it's possible in a free venue with people constantly walking about…
in the daytime… this was even better than last night's show. It's
one of the best shows I've seen any year in this venue, and my favourite
show by my favourite band of this festival. One of the beautiful things
about this fest is that when you hear a group for the first time, quite
often they'll have a second gig (or at least the players will reappear
sometimes several times over in other situations). In the case of Blake
Tartare, I fell for the band in the first 10 minutes of the first show,
so their second show was just pure enjoyment from the first second.
Sometimes music is so transporting that I forget myself and who I am and why I'm there and thus forget to make notes - and I have a memory like a sieve for details (have I mentioned this before? If so forgive me, cause, you know, I wouldn't remember…). Other times the music is so astounding that I am compelled to write to try to capture those precious blissful moments so that I can attempt to relive them and recreate them for myself, and in a forum such as this, hopefully for others so they won't miss them next time. Blake Tartare falls into the latter situation, aka DON'T MISS THEM NEXT TIME! Because one note written during this set was, if not eloquent, at least to the point: "I fucking LOVE this band; their commitment to play their hearts out and their asses off is without reproach. They're hardcore, and so there every step of the way." Indeed, you can see these guys LIVE to play, and you can absolutely tell they've been playing together for a couple of years now. You get the sense there is nothing else and they want nothing else. They're in it body and soul and never for under 100 per cent. Yet another reason to get my ass back to Europe.
And as well as being a stunning player, Blake is a terrific composer of emotionally-charged music; he's got a serious gift for establishing mood, uninhibited grooves and for suspending tension through wild-fire and slow-burn tempos alike - and maintaining it set long. The combination of the Copenhagen Connection's play-with-wild-abandon, raw-edged young talent, Blake's more-seasoned, yet able to unleash a torrent of gut-felt passion playing (especially on the tenor sax) and Blake's moving compositions is astonishingly magnetic. Still don't believe me? How about Tim Berne and Mark Feldman near the side of the stage digging it? Or how about that after the hour flew by, many in the crowd rose to their feet instantly (at a free show!) while the rest roared their approval and then further indicated their enthrallment at the edge of the stage mobbing the hometown boy and the CD table.
Glorious. Spiritual. Wild. Heavy. (Yes, the good heavy).
My only complaint (besides the fact that they don't live here or I in New York/Copenhagen!) is that a couple of tunes that were so deliriously amazing live ("Stupid Happy" - apparently often dedicated to the President of the United States of America - for one) are not on the Blake Tartare CD. Guess I'll have to wait for the next one? As yesterday, with Kresten Osgood/drums; Jonas Westergaard/bass and Soren Kjaergaard/piano. Yep, going to Europe.
François Houle Vancouver/New York project - Performance Centre
@ The Roundhouse
Stuck my head into this show for a few minutes, but knew I couldn't get
- and nor did I want - Blake Tartare out of my head and heart yet.
When it's that good, you want to hold onto it as long as possible. Even
these great musicians couldn't reach me, so I wandered quite in a daze
for a bit.
Elaschuk/Say Quartet - Festival Hall @ The Roundhouse
Was coming out of the fog a bit and besides, I really wanted to actually
hear this show. Trumpeter Kevin Elaschuk and tenor saxist Dave Say are
both favourite Vancouver musicians, and both often underrated out there,
though I'll never figure out why. Anyway, this is a new group and though
there were some rough edges, there was no shortage of passion and heart
in their performances, particularly a couple of the leaders' solos, as
well as in their often dark-edged compositions. The omnipresent Paul Rushka
on bass (that's a good thing) and, living very well up to his nickname
here, Stan "Steamer" Taylor as the rhythm section added yet
more layers to the deeply felt mix.
Hard Rubber Orchestra featuring Michael Blake/Veda Hille - The Cultch
Last "concert" of the fest. Leave it to HRO to be the last AND
the biggest, clocking in at about two hours with no break - and who needed
one! Despite its size, the HRO is always one of the freshest, breeziest
lumbering giants going, musically speaking. This night was no exception.
Once again trying something new, the band invited Vancouverites (or former
anyway, in the first case) Blake and Hille to play some of their material
with the huge band, and mostly to great effect and reception. Highlights
of the show were a knockout performance of an HRO fave entitled "Iguana";
a Saul Berson alto sax solo (I've never heard a jazzer work the theme
from "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" into a solo before. Bravo!);
bari saxist Daniel Miles Kane stealing the show (as always for at least
a few bold moments of it) by declaring he "couldn't play" his
solo as written, then proceeding to blow the roof off the joint with a
smoking bit (oh, and this after he handed out bottles of water from the
band's stash backstage and announced he'd been fired from the band, anyway,
so what did it matter); a quietly haunting piano solo by guest pianist
Chris Gestrin (mark my words - he's going stratospheric); and, of course,
the extremely rare and thrilling treat of hearing compositions by Hille
and Blake arranged for a 17-piece "band", and having them come
off with the composer's intention and tone intact as well as the signature
HRO sound come through.
Jam Session w/ Mike Allen Trio - O'Doul's
Oh my god. It's the last bit of the last Day that I'll write for this
year. Although I have been thinking of doing a final final
wrap-up later with general bits and pieces. There's always something
more to say that I can't possibly think of while I'm still this close
to it. We'll see. Anyway. This was, of course, the only place to be for
the party that is the last show of the last night. It wasn't even a question.
Studio 16 has historically been the place to be, but so much fun and camaraderie
was had at O'Doul's this fest that it would've felt just wrong to be anywhere
else. Even for Evan Parker's Trio (apparently with special guests including
Mark Dresser, Sylvie Courvoisier, Mark Feldman and the like who showed
up to play). However, it was sax night at O'Doul's, with a gaggle of them
showing up to jam for the session. Amongst them: Dave Say, Saul Berson,
Jim Pinchin (who never made it to the stage, however), Michael Blake (who
never made it past the door - I guess two absolutely killer shows in one
day will have to do… ;o), the Japanese guy who did a pretty smokin'
sax duet with Mike Allen, etc. It wasn't the wild party one might have
expected for closing night, but it was a lot of fun. I guess maybe some
of us aren't the wild ones we have been in recent years, too - although
some tried. It was what the Jam Session came to be during the fest: good
music, players spurring each other on; good food and booze in a surprisingly
casual atmosphere (considering the elegance of the joint) and a great
hang w/ friends. In fact, for some it was so good the party continued
on the sidewalk out front some time past closing and for the first time
in my life, I found myself (albeit briefly) in the position of being one
of the yahoos on Robson Street laughing and talking loudly into the wee
hours. Great fun. Happy 2004 Vancouver International Jazz Fest everyone
and grazie per tutti. Into the box with the other tattered, circled and
x'd shows goes the program. Home go visiting musicians. But here stays
a great scene - or rather a couple of great scenes with a lot of amazing
players/groups. Now, when's the next show? To the Calendar
page - everyone!
So another festival closes, and with it, interestingly, my fat little
notebook which I started June 24, 2000 with the DKV Trio in Gastown on
one of the free stages. Hamid Drake, Kent Kessler on bass and tenor saxist
Ken Vandermark. Which brings us full circle in another beloved aspect
of this festival, with Drake performing in several capacities this year.
What comes around, usually comes around again, in time. I can wait.
Got your own opinion on what went down? Visit the Jazz Forum.
Day 10
Sunday, July 4, 2004
|
S
|
M
|
T
|
W
|
T
|
F
|
S
|
|
22
|
22
|
22
|
22
|
22
|
||
|
22
|
22
|
22
|
22
|
22
|
22
|
Writer/Photographer Josephine Ochej is a regular contributor to The Jazz Review, the Westender, Planet Jazz, and Coda Magazine.