Tag Archives: San Diego Jazz Fest

BY POPULAR DEMAND: THE CHICAGO CELLAR BOYS at the SAN DIEGO JAZZ FEST: ANDY SCHUMM, JOHN OTTO, JOHNNY DONATOWICZ, DAVE BOCK, PAUL ASARO (November 24, 2018)

Here’s the good news.  I took as many opportunities as I could, without slighting other much-loved bands, to hear and video the Chicago Cellar Boys at the 2018 San Diego Jazz Fest.  Although I had some technical difficulties with my camera, I came home with over forty performances captured on video.  Here’s the second installment (the first offering is here).

There is no bad news.

LOVIN’ SAM FROM ALABAM’ (one of those songs particular to that decade that celebrates the amorous magic of a legendary figure — in some versions, Sam is also a Sheik, thus getting double credit):

THE THINGS THAT WERE MADE FOR LOVE:

WHO’S SIT? (originally recorded by the Hot Five, and some bright person suggested recently that the title we see here was missing a letter, but I propose that Mr. Fearn would not let that title be printed on an OKeh label):

APEX BLUES (for Messrs.  Noone and Poston):

BLUE BLACK BOTTOM (homage to Fats, piano solo by Paul Asaro):

SAXOPHONE SAM:

TIA JUANA (thinking of the Wolverines):

BEER GARDEN BLUES (a 1933 Clarence Williams song that I am sure celebrates the end of Prohibition, with a group vocal — later, Clarence, always industrious, gave it new lyrics as SWING, BROTHER, SWING, predating the Basie / Billie song of the same title, which had a different set of composers — one of them Walter Bishop Sr., whom my father worked with at Movietone News:

If you’ve listened closely to any of these performances, perhaps these words will be superfluous.  Although the CCB is (are?) young in terms of the calendar — born in 2017 — they are a glorious working band: yes, their solos are magnificently realized, sweet or hot; they are masters of Tonation and Phrasing — but they are a band, with gratifying ensemble telepathy.

Add to that their love of unusual repertoire, from the deeply sentimental to the searing, from love songs to dark blues; add to that the orchestrally-wise arrangements where something beautiful is always going on, the instrumental doubling that makes this quintet seem like a whole host of bands . . . may they go on and prosper for a long long time.  Each set was full of surprises, songs I’d never heard or heard of before, and songs I knew but heard for their first time — played with such conviction, intelligence, and joyous expertise.  Yes, there are homages to Noone, the Wolverines, and the Hot Five, but nothing’s hackneyed: this band loves later Clarence Williams and obscure territory bands, as well as songs possibly never recorded but still full of melodic substance.

They bring me (and others, of course) so much joy.

You can, as they say, find the CCB here on Facebook.  And two other bits of relevant information: the CCB is a smaller version of the delightful band, the Fat Babies, and the CCB has a steady Sunday-night gig here in Chicago’s Pilsen neighborhood.  I’ve never been, but Charles has promised to take me.  And I hear that a CD of the band is in the making.

For the historians among us — here is the Blessed Antecedent:

May your happiness increase!

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The 2018 SAN DIEGO JAZZ FEST: AN INTERIM REPORT

Colin Hancock (right) beatin’ it out with the Chicago Cellar Boys, November 24,.

It was wonderful. And completely exhausting.  And wonderful.  I speak, of course, of the 2018 San Diego Jazz Fest, which (for me) just concluded.  You who know me will know that I judge a jazz festival or party or weekend extravaganza by two things: one, the amount of uplifting music I am able to hear, witness, and video-record; two, the number of friends old and new who will stand still for a hug or will approach me without fear of what might happen.

The Fest met both of those criteria splendidly.  I will reverse the order and say that I am not about to tabulate the number of people I embraced or was embraced by, but there were many such encounters — some with people I see every year, some with people I haven’t seen for a long time (“Remind me of your name.  I know you are very dear, but your name has gone away.) — and some were new friends who are now old friends, if you follow this serpentine line of reasoning.  Chief among them might be Bess Wade, Jim and Rebecca Thompson, Carol and Mary (the Ambassadors of Fun), John and Pamela Ochs, Allene Harding, Howard and Susie Miyata, Carol Andersen, Frank Selman, Tom Brannan, Sandra and Russ, solitary-by-choice dancer Lois, and others.

Music.  I delighted in the On the Levee Band (Hal Smith’s swinging Kid Ory evocation with Ben Polcer, Charlie Halloran, Joe Goldberg, Kris Tokarski, Alex Belhaj, Joshua Gouzy, and Hal), the Chicago Cellar Boys (Andy Schumm, John Otto, Johnny Donatowicz, Dave Bock, Paul Asaro), my long-time pals the Yerba Buena Stompers (Leon Oakley, John Gill, Duke Heitger, Tom Bartlett, Conal Fowkes, Orange Kellin, Kevin Dorn, Clint Baker), Carl Sonny Leyland, Dawn Lambeth, Marc Caparone, the Original Cornell Syncopators, directed by Colin Hancock; Jeff Hamilton; Katie Cavera, Marty Eggers, Bob Pelland, Michael Gamble’s Rhythm Serenaders with Jonathan Stout, Josh Collazzo, Laura Windley, Virginia Tichenor, Stephanie Trick and Paolo Alderighi, Brian John Casserly, and more.

If the camera and its owner-wrangler worked in harmony, I will have over 150 videos.  Some of them will remain buried because the musicians on them did not like what was captured, but I think there will be sizable handfuls for you to savor.

I will go to the 2019 version and I encourage you to do likewise.  Eleven months’ plus should give anyone motivated enough time to plan.  Meanwhile, thanks to the kind people whose light guided my path: Paul Daspit, Bill and Ed Adams, Gretchen Haugen, and volunteers whose names I never learned but who were solicitous and helpful.

As I wrote above, I feel exhausted.  I am coughing (an occupational hazard, I think, of plane travel) and do not expect to be perky for my Tuesday morning class.  But, believe me, the San Diego Jazz Fest has once again increased my happiness.

May your happiness increase!

“A SENSE OF HOME, A SENSE OF PLACE”: MARC CAPARONE, DAWN LAMBETH, CONAL FOWKES at the SAN DIEGO JAZZ FEST (Nov. 24, 2017)

For most of us, home is a tangible place: the room you are in now, the place where you spent your childhood, or the woods across the street, a friend’s basement, the house you now have the mortgage on.

Cape Cod house, Levittown, New York, 1947

But the real definition is broader: home is the place where people you love and who love you gather, the place you feel warmed and protected and seen, where you hug and are hugged.  And home can be portable: the hotel room with the little Christmas tree.

The definitions shift depending on one’s needs at the moment, but one of my homes is, perhaps oddly, a place I visit for a long weekend once a year, the San Diego Jazz Fest, which I’ve described most recently here.

At this gathering, I know I will hear and witness the music that speaks most directly to my heart.  Here are two examples of that music — recorded at the 2017 Fest — featuring Marc Caparone, cornet; Dawn Lambeth, vocal; Conal Fowkes, piano.  It would be an impudence to describe it.  You must experience it for yourself.

HOME (When Shadows Fall) by Marc and Conal:

WAITING AT THE END OF THE ROAD by the trio:

This music — and the people connected to it — make me feel embraced by the world, a rare and memorable feeling, one I savor and invite you to savor as well.

And since I’ve buried the lede, the 2018 San Diego Jazz Fest starts this Wednesday, November 21, and goes to Sunday, November 25.  You can find out all you need to know in the link above.  And there’s a turkey dinner, should you find yourself terrified that you won’t have had your holiday fiesta.  But the feast is in the music.

May your happiness increase!

WE SAVOR THE RITUALS (WITH A SMALL UPDATE): THANKSGIVING at THE SAN DIEGO JAZZ FEST (Nov. 21-25, 2018)

Even in the midst of darkness there are always reasons to be thankful.  Here is a detail from the classic Norman Rockwell portrait of a late-November American celebration, make of it and its assumptions (culinary, sociological, political) what you will.

But this post is about another ritual of communal gratitude, another place to give thanks: the thirty-ninth San Diego Jazz Fest, held this year from November 21 through the 25th. My update (as of late November 11) is to offer the flyer below, and to point out something I didn’t know when I’d written this blogpost — that the Saturday night Swing Extravaganza will also feature the wonderful band Michael Gamble and the Rhythm Serenaders with the wonderful singer Laura Windley. Add that piece of news into your computations.

I’m sitting here with the band schedule in front of me, and can narrate my own pleasure-map of delights for the weekend.  How about dance lessons, opportunities for “jammers” to play with others of their ilk, a Saturday night swing extravaganza?  Ongoing solo piano recitals featuring Kris Tokarski, Vinnie Armstrong, Stephanie Trick, Carl Sonny Leyland, Conal Fowkes, Paolo Alderighi, Paul Asaro, Marty Eggers, Virginia Tichenor?  Then sets by the Dawn Lambeth Trio featuring Marc Caparone, High Sierra, Grand Dominion, the Chicago Cellar Boys, the On the Levee Jazz Band, the Original Cornell Syncopators, the Heliotrope Ragtime Orchestra, Katie Cavera, Clint Baker, Hal Smith, Yerba Buena Stompers, Titanic, Colin Hancock, Charlie Halloran, Ben Polcer, Joe Goldberg, John Gill, Kevin Dorn, Andy Schumm, John Otto, Leon Oakley, Tom Bartlett, and more.

And more.  At any given moment at the fest, let us say on a Saturday, the music goes from breakfast to wooziness — 9 AM to near midnight — in six separate locations.  Using my right index finger (the highly-skilled instrument for such computations) I counted sixty-six sets of music on Saturday, sets either 45 minutes or an hour.

At other festivals, that would make for transportation difficulties (a euphemism for “How am I going to get to that other building before the band starts?) but since all the action is contained in one building, even people with limited mobility make it in before the music starts.

Did I mention that everyone I’ve ever dealt with at San Diego has been terribly nice, including such luminaries of cheer and comfort as Paul Daspit and Gretchen Haugen?  This is no small thing.

And for those of you who think you will be deprived of Thanksgiving edibles (which means “too much food”) as depicted by Mr. Rockwell above, take heart. There is a splendiferous buffet served on Thursday from 2 to 6 — you can reserve a place there, with a discount for those who do so before November 15: details here.  If you’re vegetarian or vegan, you’ll still totter out of there, quite stuffed.

I am a late adopter who hasn’t made all 38 festivals (to explain why would tax all your five wits) but when I did make my way to the Fest, of course it was video camera at the ready.  And here are three sets that pleased me greatly.  I have shot several hundred videos, and that’s no stage joke, but I don’t feel right about using videos of X if X isn’t at this year’s festival.  But the three sets below feature people who are alive and well for this year.  First, here are the Cornell Syncopators featuring Katie Cavera in 2017.  Then, here are the Yerba Buena Stompers in 2016, and here are Marc Caparone and Conal Fowkes paying tribute to Louism also in 2017.

Going back to 2009, I remember when I first started this blog, I used Rae Ann Berry’s videos as glimpses of the Promised Land.  Here, for example, is John Gill paying tribute, beautifully, to Mister Crosby, in 2009:

Why am I concluding this post with PENNIES FROM HEAVEN and John’s beautiful rendition?  It seems an obvious message as far as the San Diego Jazz Fest is concerned, this year or in years to come. Good things are coming, the lyrics say, but you can’t hide under a treeIf you bestir yourself on Monday, November 26, you’ll have to wait a whole year for this opportunity to be grateful amidst friends and lovely heated music.  Take a look here and you will be glad you did.  See you there.

May your happiness increase!

COLIN HANCOCK THROWS A PARTY, OR SEVERAL, FOR US

You might know the inspiring exhortation, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”  The quite remarkable Colin Hancock has put his own inventive spin on that, and I imagine “Be the music you want to hear!” is his motto.  I’ve written about Colin and his Original Cornell Syncopators as they appeared at the San Diego Jazz Fest last year (dig in here) and they will be appearing in San Diego again this November: make plans here!

And I had the pleasure of seeing the larger unit in New York very recently: hot evidence here.

Colin Hancock by 2E Photography

 

But this post is not about the wonderful young people who make up Colin’s bands.  All respect to them, no.  This post is about Colin, the one, the only.  The dazzling multi-instrumentalist and recording engineer and Imaginer, the young man who gets inside the music rather than copying its most obvious features.

Over the summer, Colin made some records.  That might not raise an intrigued eyebrow until you learn that he plays all the instruments on these records (and sings on one), that they are brilliantly loving evocations of time, place, and style, with no artificial ingredients.  They aren’t tricks or stunts: they are MUSIC.

There is, of course, a tradition of one-man-band records: Sidney Bechet for Victor, Humphrey Lyttelton’s ONE MAN WENT TO BLOW, and more — but Colin’s are deeper and more thoughtfully lovely than simply ways to show off multiple expertises.  What he’s done is make beautiful little alternative universes: imagine if __________ band had played ___________: what would it sound like?  Some bands have no single historical antecedents: they exist only in his wide imagination.  And the results are amazing on their own terms: play one, without identifying it, for a hot jazz fan, and see what she says; play one for a deeply scholarly hot jazz fan and hear the encomia, because the music is just right, imaginative as well as idiomatically wise.

Here’s an example, evoking Johnny Dunn’s Jazz Hounds:

a splendid visit to Red Hot Chicago:

and a tender creation honoring Bix, Tram, Lang, and their circle, casting admiring side-glances at Benny and Jimmy McP:

finally (for this post) a frolic, Mister Hancock on the vocal chorus:

You can hear more of Colin’s startling magic on his YouTube channel here.  And there’s a brand-new interview of this wondrous trickster here.

Fats Waller would have called Colin “a solid sender” or perhaps “a killer-diller from Manila!” but I think, perhaps more sedately, of Colin as someone who likes to imagine aural parties and then generously invites all to join him.  What gifts!

May your happiness increase!

CONNIE AND TIM IN SAN DIEGO: TIM LAUGHLIN, CONNIE JONES, DOUG FINKE, CHRIS DAWSON, KATIE CAVERA, MARTY EGGERS, HAL SMITH (Nov. 30, 2014)

When you feel embraced and uplifted by a harmonious existence, you know it, perhaps because it happens all too rarely.  Readers will have their own remembered experiences, but for perhaps four years I could be certain of being transported to another, delicate yet solid plane of consciousness: when Connie Jones began to play.  He’s retired from playing, but the music he created is like a light in the darkness.

I saw Connie almost exclusively in the company of Tim Laughlin, who understood Connie’s irreplaceable majesties, and played wonderfully because of that inspiration.  I’ve been saving some video performances — not quite for my old age, but for a time when we might well need infusions of beauty.  So here are eight more performances: savor them gently and slowly.  The splendid band (all of them happily active) is Doug Finke, trombone; Chris Dawson, piano; Marty Eggers, string bass; Katie Cavera, guitar; Hal Smith, drums — performing at the San Diego Jazz Fest on November 30, 2014.  (By the way, that Fest is still perking along nicely: I’ll be there this Thanksgiving.)

MY GAL SAL:

YOU CAN’T LOSE A BROKEN HEART:

THAT OLD FEELING:

LINGER AWHILE (a different set):

A HUNDRED YEARS FROM TODAY:

GENTILLY STRUT:

SOMEBODY STOLE MY GAL:

Connie and friends bless us, so consider returning the compliment.

May your happiness increase!

FOUR-FOUR RHYTHM: KRIS TOKARSKI, JONATHAN DOYLE, LARRY SCALA, NOBU OZAKI, HAL SMITH at the SAN DIEGO JAZZ FEST (November 24, 2017)

Jazz at Lincoln Center (and JazzTimes) just sent an announcement about the 2019 Jazz Congress, January 7-8, 2019 at Jazz at Lincoln Center, Broadway at 60th Street, New York, New York.  One panel is:

 Jazz, Swing, Race and Culture
Considering swing as a rhythm or swing as a feeling or a verb, what are the social, cultural, and racial factors that affect individuals’ perception, acceptance or rejection of the concept? Player[s] and thinkers ponder what swing means in 2019.

I doubt that it will happen, but in my ideal world, the player[s] and thinkers at JALC will watch these videos before pondering.  The music was created in 2017, not 2019, and there are other ways to swing, but what Kris and his Gang did was genuine and might eliminate some theorizing.

These four performances come from a magical band that made a splash at the 2017 San Diego Jazz Fest: Kris Tokarski, piano; Jonathan Doyle, clarinet / tenor saxophone; Larry Scala, guitar; Nobu Ozaki, string bass; Hal Smith, drums.  I could spend paragraphs pointing out resemblances and echoes of the Ancestors (you’re free to chase such things at your leisure) but I’d rather you admire these living heroes at play, and such expert play.

LOVE ME OR LEAVE ME:

REPEATER PENCIL (and, yes, such a thing did exist: see here):

DROP ME OFF IN HARLEM:

JUST ONE OF THOSE THINGS:

Festival organizers, club bookers, concert promoters with taste: now’s the time!

Incidentally, this is the charming 1929 record from which I take my title:

May your happiness increase!