DAY 6
DR. LONNIE SMITH TRIO W/ CORY WEEDS @ The Centre
After catching three of DR. SMITH’s four gigs w/ CRASH at last year’s fest, this was one gig I was not about to miss. I was ready to bask in the warmth of, and give myself over to the zen-like Doctor, and I knew he wouldn’t disappoint. It’s a testament to the power of the performer that, like Dianne Reeves a couple nights previous, Dr. Smith owned that huge concert hall. It was his. We were his. And we went gladly, too. He’s a talented all-around performer – plays like a mo’ fo’, has charisma and presence to spare, and major powers of charm and seduction to seal the deal. They don’t make ‘em too often like this, but he truly does have it all. And although I think most prefer a more intimate setting for jazz, I have to say it’s always such a thrill to see one of our own up on stage in a venue like The Centre, especially when they’re up to the task of ‘filling the space’, as it were. Weeds is such a presence on the scene here, having made a huge impact over the years with his radio show, club, and record label, it’s a wonder he has time to play – but play he does cause he sounded pretty damn good and looked pretty damn comfortable up there. And Weeds and Smith obviously have such a great rapport, both on and off the stage, and it was a kick to watch and feel it come alive this night in their excellent and fun music. (Dr. Lonnie Smith, Hammond B-3; Peter Bernstein, guitar; Cory Weeds, alto sax)
:o(
It sucked to follow such a positive experience with such a negative one, but the decision of how long to stay and try to catch a bit of Mavis Staples before heading off to another show was made much more easy by annoying staff at The Centre. As I stood against the back wall during the first act, an usher tried very hard to get me to sit down. I explained I was unsure of how long I’d stay, I might take pictures, and I didn’t want to disturb people getting in and out. She finally left me alone, then proceeded to chat for several minutes with another usher as they stood behind the last rows of seats. I moved off, but they were also disturbing at least a couple of other patrons who kept turning around, wondering why people were talking during the show. So, when the second act was about to start, I thought I’d try the other side, and when the usher on that side absolutely insisted I sit, I took my cue to vacate the uptight Centre and fly off to…
GERRY HEMINGWAY QUINTET @ The Cultch
Once again arrived mid-song, and 15 minutes later with no break in sight, I followed in behind a few jazz fest staffers who realized we’d miss the entire show if we didn’t slip in during an opportune louder bit. Turned out the long piece was part of a massive suite – shocker. We were promised grooves by real live acoustic instruments as opposed to electronics, and they were there indeed, but with so much more from these incredibly talented musicians who are also very gifted improvisers. They ended the suite far from the quiet strings that I came in on, with a repetitive pseudo-industrial (think 1920’s b&w silent film score) rhythm supplied by Hemingway’s computer and keyboard, that was gently hypnotizing; with trombone, sax, bass and cello floating a melody over it. What’s so weird is that I had just been thinking of bailing and trying my luck somewhere else (while slightly freaked that THESE guys had failed to reach me…) when I got completely caught up in the last minutes of the piece, without even realizing until it was over that I had been rendered semi-unconscious and rooted to my spot on the balcony. My first thought after was, ‘My god, how do they do that?!’ How do they create this magnetic field of utter magic that takes you inside it, and holds you there without your even knowing it? I wasn’t feeling particularly willing at the moment – obviously it was I who failed to reach THEM earlier – but it got me anyway. That is the magic, the high, that makes it worth all the rest you have to wade through in the hope of connecting with it. And it’s better than any other drug I’ve ever tried. And so I keep trying. (Gerry Hemingway, drums/computer/keyboard; Frank Gratkowki, sax/clar./b.clar; Peggy Lee, cello; Mark Helias, bass; Wolter Wierbos, trombone)
After catching three of DR. SMITH’s four gigs w/ CRASH at last year’s fest, this was one gig I was not about to miss. I was ready to bask in the warmth of, and give myself over to the zen-like Doctor, and I knew he wouldn’t disappoint. It’s a testament to the power of the performer that, like Dianne Reeves a couple nights previous, Dr. Smith owned that huge concert hall. It was his. We were his. And we went gladly, too. He’s a talented all-around performer – plays like a mo’ fo’, has charisma and presence to spare, and major powers of charm and seduction to seal the deal. They don’t make ‘em too often like this, but he truly does have it all. And although I think most prefer a more intimate setting for jazz, I have to say it’s always such a thrill to see one of our own up on stage in a venue like The Centre, especially when they’re up to the task of ‘filling the space’, as it were. Weeds is such a presence on the scene here, having made a huge impact over the years with his radio show, club, and record label, it’s a wonder he has time to play – but play he does cause he sounded pretty damn good and looked pretty damn comfortable up there. And Weeds and Smith obviously have such a great rapport, both on and off the stage, and it was a kick to watch and feel it come alive this night in their excellent and fun music. (Dr. Lonnie Smith, Hammond B-3; Peter Bernstein, guitar; Cory Weeds, alto sax)
:o(
It sucked to follow such a positive experience with such a negative one, but the decision of how long to stay and try to catch a bit of Mavis Staples before heading off to another show was made much more easy by annoying staff at The Centre. As I stood against the back wall during the first act, an usher tried very hard to get me to sit down. I explained I was unsure of how long I’d stay, I might take pictures, and I didn’t want to disturb people getting in and out. She finally left me alone, then proceeded to chat for several minutes with another usher as they stood behind the last rows of seats. I moved off, but they were also disturbing at least a couple of other patrons who kept turning around, wondering why people were talking during the show. So, when the second act was about to start, I thought I’d try the other side, and when the usher on that side absolutely insisted I sit, I took my cue to vacate the uptight Centre and fly off to…
GERRY HEMINGWAY QUINTET @ The Cultch
Once again arrived mid-song, and 15 minutes later with no break in sight, I followed in behind a few jazz fest staffers who realized we’d miss the entire show if we didn’t slip in during an opportune louder bit. Turned out the long piece was part of a massive suite – shocker. We were promised grooves by real live acoustic instruments as opposed to electronics, and they were there indeed, but with so much more from these incredibly talented musicians who are also very gifted improvisers. They ended the suite far from the quiet strings that I came in on, with a repetitive pseudo-industrial (think 1920’s b&w silent film score) rhythm supplied by Hemingway’s computer and keyboard, that was gently hypnotizing; with trombone, sax, bass and cello floating a melody over it. What’s so weird is that I had just been thinking of bailing and trying my luck somewhere else (while slightly freaked that THESE guys had failed to reach me…) when I got completely caught up in the last minutes of the piece, without even realizing until it was over that I had been rendered semi-unconscious and rooted to my spot on the balcony. My first thought after was, ‘My god, how do they do that?!’ How do they create this magnetic field of utter magic that takes you inside it, and holds you there without your even knowing it? I wasn’t feeling particularly willing at the moment – obviously it was I who failed to reach THEM earlier – but it got me anyway. That is the magic, the high, that makes it worth all the rest you have to wade through in the hope of connecting with it. And it’s better than any other drug I’ve ever tried. And so I keep trying. (Gerry Hemingway, drums/computer/keyboard; Frank Gratkowki, sax/clar./b.clar; Peggy Lee, cello; Mark Helias, bass; Wolter Wierbos, trombone)
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home