What does your heaven look like? Mine is something like this: A warm April day with the temperature in the mid-70s, grooving to tight live music with my friends. Winter Jazz Fest 2016 was almost heaven, except it, took place on January 16 so it was freezing. I guess the logo was very fitting, in more ways than one—it showed an iceberg, which is freezing, but it also showed that sometimes the coolest (ba-dum-tss) and most inventive music is beneath the surface and requires some digging to find and appreciate.
I bought one ticket and was able to go to any of the 11 concurrent shows taking place from Bleecker Street to 14th Street from 6 p.m. to 2 a.m. I could drop in and out at any time, so I was able to soak in and appreciate the music I enjoyed and turn my back on the music that I did not. A buffet of jazz—heaven, except it was cold. I savored everything from an avant-garde big band to Argentinian jazz to classic ragtime to a hybrid Middle Eastern-Western jazz group. The last group featured saxophones and lutes coexisting to make beautiful textures. The night’s performances were as eclectic as New York itself, and they reminded me of my love for the city. Just as I could walk one mile in any direction and be in a whole new world atmospherically or architecturally any other day, today I could walk down three blocks and be in a whole new world musically.
Live jazz shows are more than an evening's entertainment; they are experiences. The genre's hallmark is wild, emotive improvisation, which means that I know that the show I got will never be repeated again. It also means that when I buy a CD and enjoy it at home, I experience something unique and different from the show I attended. Let me take you through my little heaven and share with you some of the gems I found.
I started the evening at the New School John L. Tishman Auditorium on Fifth Avenue. There, I listened to the Michael Formanek Ensemble Kolossus in a concert hall-style venue. The group of 20 carefully weaved into and out of complex improvisational and written sections without missing a beat. They experimented with sound, too, with their trombonist creating an entire solo out of sounds—not notes—which fostered a very unique atmosphere.
Listen to the Ensemble Kolossus.
I then went to the much more intimate New School Glass Box Theatre where I listened to the Spanish jazz of Sofia Rei. I stood a mere feet in front of the band and felt a very real, palatable energy that I could not find in concert-style seating. Though I did not understand a single word she sang, I felt that there was a very powerful cohesiveness between the melody, lyrics, and music that gave the songs a powerful emotional effect. She also used echo effects and loopers to turn her voice into an instrument, which created textures reminiscent of exploring the mountains of South America. The band had a perfect intuition of when to give her space to sing and when to improvise their own melodies and add their own subtle touches or even counter-melodies.
Next I went to a theatre on West 12th Street and listened to Butler, Bernstein, and the Hot Nine. They took me back to the 1940s and 50s with their powerful swing and ragtime vibes. I felt like I went through a time machine and was transported to New Orleans, even though I was only a few short blocks away from the last performance I had enjoyed. They had enough skill to sound like they were from the past without sounding dated or old. My favourite part, however, was that everyone on stage was grinning like children and cheering each other on as they took solos and made rich beautiful music.
Lister to Butler, Bernstein, and the Hot Nine.
The last show I attended was my favorite because it was the most exotic. I walked to Subculture at Bleecker and Lafayette to listen to Amir ElSaffar's Two Rivers Ensemble. He took classical Iraqi and Palestinian music and masterfully combined it with the sounds of American jazz to create a truly unique sound. The band effortlessly merged Eastern and Western sounds: the band was comprised of a lute, an oud, a santoor, a trumpet, a saxophone, an upright bass, a drum kit, and Arabic vocals. Unlike many other cross-cultural mashups, which sometimes sound forced and not necessarily good, this group made the fusion of things that should be like water and oil seem like salt and pepper—perfect complements.
The entire experience made me very grateful that I live in Manhattan. I experienced in one night the music of four different groups as different as night and day. Great music isn’t dead, but it might be a bit obscure. Each of the groups I saw regularly performs in various clubs, bars, and venues in NYC. One special aspect of local shows, jazz or otherwise, is that you can sit or stand within a few feet of the performers, and they will often stay and talk to you about their music afterwards if you want. There is also something special you can share in that, which you won't find in posh places like Jazz at Lincoln Center. There is something intimate about being in a room with 50 people rather than rocking out with a massive crowd at Madison Square Garden. I encourage all of you to look for these local music venues near you because there is some awesome stuff that you won't find at Warped Tour and that you definitely won’t hear on the radio. Dare to dig.
What do you think of these bands? Do you have your own favorite local groups or venues in NYC or elsewhere? Let me know in the comments below; I always enjoy finding and listening to new musicians.
