Past Gigs At Progress – Reviews
Progress Theatre, Reading | Friday 23 June 2017
Claire Martin vocals | Dave Newton piano
A Midsummer Night’s Jazz
World class’ like ‘genius’ is a grossly over used term, but in the case of Claire Martin and Dave Newton it happens to be absolutely true. Recognised individually by numerous accolades and awards, as a duo they form an irresistible combination, enchanting a sell-out audience with an evening of wonderful music. Their jazz artistry shone through a programme drawn from the Great American Songbook, confirming Claire Martin’s own place in the pantheon of great female song stylists to whom she paid tribute: Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Peggy Lee, Lena Horne, Shirley Horn, Carmen McRae, Diana Krall, Sarah Vaughan, Nina Simone, Eartha Kitt, Keely Smith, Helen Merrill, Blossom Dearie, Ernestine Anderson and Anita O’Day. Claire Martin is up there with the best!
‘I Love Being Here With You’ set things swinging. After a hectic recent schedule, including an appearance with the BBC Big Band, one felt that Peggy Lee’s lyrics truly echoed Claire’s pleasure at singing in the intimate setting of Reading’s Progress Theatre rather than a cavernous concert hall. ‘I like being able to see the whites of the audience’s eyes,’ she remarked.
‘Undecided’, an early hit for Ella Fitzgerald with the Chick Webb Band in 1939, was taken at a brisk pace with dazzling piano from Dave Newton. Claire gave full rein to the role of the exasperated girl whose boyfriend simply can’t make up his mind about their future and confronts him with the final ultimatum, ‘So what are you gonna do?’ Sounds familiar?
A special magic exists between Claire and Dave; barely exchanging a word, their musical understanding is complete, none more so than in the Gershwin brothers’ ‘How Long Has This Been Going On?’ Economic, understated, tasteful; the pair complemented each other perfectly to express the bitter-sweet beauty of the song.
‘Come Runnin’, dedicated to the beautiful Lena Horne, served to remind us of her immense talent as a singer, dancer and actress, and also of her role as an advocate for Civil Rights. She lent support to the movement at great personal risk to herself and her career.
Cole Porter’s suggestion that you could get a ‘Kick from cocaine’ may have been OK for sophisticated Broadway audiences when ‘Anything Goes’ opened in 1934, but it was way too much for the film censors. Porter replaced the offending line with, ‘Some like the perfume in Spain’. Did you have to distil it first? Needless to say, Claire Martin delivered the line with potent force and complete authenticity!
Duke Ellington’s ‘I’m Just a Lucky So and So’, with lyrics by Mack David, deserves to be better known; a delicately quirky tune, it’s a wonderfully simple declamation of the joy of living. In the hands of Martin and Newton, a minor masterpiece.
There were times, Nina Simone’s ‘’Too Much In Love To Care’ was a good example, where the marvellous sound of Dave Newton’s piano took on the proportions of a full orchestra – bass, drums, brass and sax sections. He is a phenomenal pianist: inventive, witty; sometimes teasing the notes from the keyboard, he will break into a little boogie-woogie, stride or even a be-bop run; at the fastest tempos he never seems rushed, tossing a beguiling quote into the mix before heading back to the melody and a seamless hand-over to Miss Martin.
Two contrasting songs completed the first set, each, in quite different ways, revealing the expressive range of Claire Martin’s voice; the anguish of ‘I Loves You Porgy’ from ‘Porgy and Bess’, and the subtle suggestiveness of Jerome Kern’s ‘I Won’t Dance’ . ‘I know that music leads the way to romance’, she sang with a twinkle in her eye.
The second set continued the ‘romantic’ theme established before the break with another risqué number, recorded by Eartha Kitt amongst many others, Cole Porter’s ‘Let’s Do It (Let’s Fall in Love)’. As comedian Max Miller might have said, ‘It’s all in yer mind missus.’
Apart from being a very fine vocalist, the late Mel Tormé also penned a number of great songs, including ‘Born To Be Blue’, an evocative tale of sadness and lost love. Claire negotiated the lyrics of the fast-paced ‘Caravan’ with consummate ease, while Dave Newton concocted a heady mix of middle-eastern spices at the keyboard.
‘Wonder Why?’, came next, a lovely Oscar nominated song by Sammy Cahn, and thankfully saved from the obscurity of the 1951 movie ‘Rich, Young and Pretty’. Forever, associated with Ella Fitzgerald, the centenary of whose birth was marked in April, ‘Someone To Watch Over Me’ remains a showstopper, with Claire capturing the heart-touching tenderness of the song to perfection.
Dave Newton set ‘Cheek to Cheek’, Irving Berlin’s classic number from ‘Top Hat’, in motion with a deceptively simple figure that kept you on the edge of your seat with anticipation; you had a good idea what was in store, but didn’t quite know when it was going to happen. And then it did! Wow. The number took off, conjuring vivid images of Astaire and Rogers whizzing round the dance floor in full flight.
It came as no surprise to learn from Claire that Shirley Horn was one of Miles Davis’ favourite singers. Her arrangement of the moody, haunting ‘Quietly There’ by Johnny Mandel, would have exactly suited him.
The evening roared to a close with a flag-waving rendition of the Irving Berlin favourite ‘Blue Skies’, closely followed by a ‘get down and dirty’ blues from Ernestine Anderson, ‘Never Make You Hope Too Soon’, which brought the house down with rapturous applause and calls for more! Ms Martin and Dave Newton duly responded with an elegantly swinging à la Anita O’Day interpretation of ‘You Turned The Tables On Me’.
A more than satisfied member of the audience neatly summed up his enjoyment of the evening as he made his way out of the auditorium, ‘You MUST get them back,’ he remarked breathlessly. ‘… and SOON.’
As ever, thanks are due to Martin Noble for the excellent quality of the sound and lighting, to the Progress Front of House team for their warm hospitality and Hickies Music Shop, Friar Street, Reading, for the hire of a magnificent Yamaha baby grand piano.
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre, Reading | Friday 2 June 2017
Steve Fishwick trumpet & flugelhorn, Art Themen soprano & tenor saxophones, Gareth Williams keyboard, Arnie Somogyi bass, Dave Barry drums
Spun so charmingly we willingly share the illusion that the secret to successful band leading is to surround oneself with players better than oneself. If the words had been uttered by anyone else we might even have believed in them, but here, centre stage of Reading’s Progress Theatre, stands Art Themen before a sell-out crowd; testimony in itself to the enduring inventiveness of his talent and immense popularity. Yes, the musicians he now introduces are giants of their instruments and yes, each is a leader in his own right, possibly with an ego to project, but one can’t but help detect a spirit of generous warmth in the air, which makes the gig unmistakeably Art’s – we know that we are set for an evening of exceptional music and great fun.
Mining the rich vein of hard bop, Sonny Rollins’ ‘Why Don’t I’ set the tone for the evening, with Steve Fishwick’s lyrically fluent trumpet lines and burnished tones, contrasting beautifully with Themen’s more angular approach and Gareth Williams’ cascading keyboard runs. Dave Barry, a ‘Blakeyesque’ powerhouse of a drummer, stoked the boilers in the rhythm department, ably assisted by Arnie Somogyi’s subtle bass.
Pianist, composer and bandleader, the late Horace Silver possessed the rare gift of creating tunes popular with both jazz improvisers for their musical challenge and with the wider public for their catchy melodies and earthy rhythms. The second number, ‘Ecaroh’ (try reversing the letters), which actually dates way-back to 1952, was a good case in point. Blues tinged and with a distinctly Latin feel, ‘Ecaroh’ set the fingers snapping and feet tapping.
‘How My Heart Sings’, from the pen of Earl Zindars and famously interpreted by Bill Evans, brought a change of mood. Fishwick and Themen switched to flugelhorn and soprano sax respectively to beautifully capture the reflective qualities of the song in gentle waltz time. Gareth Williams’ ‘moonlight’ touch on the keyboard and the palpable empathy between himself, Somogyi and Barry, a combination of sensitivity and strength, proved irresistible.
Themen was at his expressive best in the ballad feature ‘Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most’, drawing every drop of emotion from this bittersweet standard; the inspired product of song writing team Tommy Woolf and Fran Landesman, who took the opening line of T.S. Eliot’s ‘The Waste Land’, ‘April is the cruellest month’, and placed it in a jazz setting.
‘Dizzy Moods’, kept everyone on their toes. Full of the passion, energy and unexpected twists and turns one associates with the compositions of Charles Mingus, it brought the first set to an explosive conclusion.
Apart from being a very funny guy, with an hilarious flow of on-stage banter, Gareth Williams is an extraordinarily fine pianist, as he demonstrated to brilliant effect in the introduction to the Bill Evan’s classic ‘Peri’s Scope’, which set the scene for dazzling solos from the other members of the band.
In total contrast, the out of tempo introduction to Cedar Walton’s ‘Midnight Waltz’ kept everyone guessing as Arnie Somogyi and Dave Berry led the way through a labyrinthine pattern of sounds, patterns and changing rhythms. Great fun, but every bit as bewildering as the warren of passages and rooms behind the Progress stage. As if by magic, the tune emerged from the apparent chaos. Perhaps this is what an unnamed critic meant when he coined the phrase, ‘divine rampage’ to describe the jazz ethic.
The task of making the spoken introduction to John Coltrane’s monumental ‘26/2’, a number Art Themen later described as an ‘A Level piece’, fell appropriately to Steve Fishwick, Professor of Jazz Trumpet in no less than three of the UK’s most prestigious music colleges. ‘This is a piece,’ he explained, ‘in which Coltrane transposed the chords of‘Giant Steps’ on to those of Charlie Parker’s ‘Confirmation’. He made it sound all so simple.
The result was anything but simple; a tour de force of technical brilliance, with first Themen and then Fishwick navigating a course through the changes at break-neck speed, with the aid of Gareth Williams, eyes firmly set on the musical compass, and the Somogyi/Barry rhythm team making sure that the boilers maintained a full head of steam. Breathtaking, is the word that immediately comes to mind!
‘I Fall In Love Too Easily’, a beautiful ballad by Jule Styne and Sammy Cahn, which first made its mark when sung by Frank Sinatra in the 1944 film ‘Anchors Away’, brought a welcome sense of calm after the storm. Steve Fishwick’s solo feature, with its superb articulation and breathe control, held the audience spellbound.
Topped by a rhythmically complex and super-charged drum solo by Dave Barry, the gig came to a close with the band in full flight on ‘Nutville’, another piece from the prolific pen of Horace Silver. An encore? Of course … the rapturous applause of the audience drew the band back on stage to round off an evening of true jazz delights with Kenny Barron’s ‘Voyage’.
As ever, our thanks to Martin Noble, sound & lighting man par excellence, and to Stuart McCubbin and his Front of House team for their warm hospitality and attention to detail.
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre, Reading | Friday 5 May 2017
Duncan Eagles tenor saxophone, Max Luthert bass, Eric Ford drums, with guest Ant Law guitar
Partikel, Duncan Eagles on tenor saxophone, Max Luthert on bass and Eric Ford on drums, augmented by guitarist Ant Law, brought their vibrant mix of lyrical melody, vivid sound colours, and pulsating rhythms, to a spellbound audience at Reading’s Progress Theatre on Friday 5 May on a leg of their Counteraction tour; a new album shortly to be launched at King’s Place in London.
Challenging, unpredictable and utterly compelling, Partikel’s original and collective approach, with it’s liberating sense of time and space, shakes one out of the comfort zone of familiar standards, twelve-bar blues and strings of solos, to view the possibilities of creating jazz in a fresh light.
Tenor saxophonist Duncan Eagles provides a strong lead voice and takes on the lion’s share of compositional duties. Eschewing a microphone he made brilliant use of the Progress Theatre’s natural acoustic and the full range of his instrument; a barely audible whisper, a fleeting run into the higher register, or a clarion call as forceful as any brass section, to create an endless flow of melodic lines rich in light, shade and texture.
His compositions bear witness to his life and experience; the exotic and the everyday. ‘Shimmer’, which he described as ‘the happiest piece of music that I’ve ever composed’, brought an evocation of the tranquillity, unique light and tropical humidity of Cambodia. The contemplative ‘Lanterns’, an impression drawn from the band’s recent tour of China, could almost be described as an elegy for the ‘positive, peaceful vibe’ of the sadly fast-disappearing street life of Beijing; rapidly being swept away in the wake of urban ‘renewal. Eagle’s passionate tenor and Eric Ford’s swirling percussion added tension and drama to ‘Land and Sea’, while ‘Midnight Mass’, ‘Suburbiton’ and ‘Wray Common’ conjured images from closer to home.
An unbridled tear-up through ‘Scenes and Sounds’, brought the house down as the opener to the second set. And if anyone should doubt Eagle’s jazz credentials, then listen to ‘Bolden Days’, an affectionate portrait of the legendary Buddy Bolden, a creator of jazz in New Orleans, whose sound, it is said, could be heard ‘twenty miles away’ when he played outside. And for any ‘mouldy fygges’ tempted to suggest that well-schooled, music college-educated jazz players of the present lack the personality to express themselves like the self-taught masters of the past, take a listen to this young guy and think again!
Duncan Eagles is undoubtedly Partikel’s principal voice, but as I’ve already commented, it is a collective band with everyone feeding into the creative melting pot and above all, listening to each other.
Rather like Ron Carter’s crucial role in the great Miles Davis Quintet of the nineteen-sixties, bassist Max Luthert’s perfectly placed notes, often felt rather than heard, ease the music seamlessly into new directions. And also like Carter, his bass has a rich tone, full of expressive qualities that enjoyed full rein in the solo introduction to his composition ‘Moving Fields’.
Eric Ford provides the other half of the band’s rhythm source, combining with Luthert to imply a liberating sensation of time; subtle, ever changing, but rarely ever directly stated. He draws an aural kaleidoscope of sounds from his uniquely customised drum kit, filling in the colours and adding emotional depth to Eagle’s musical sketches.
Ant Law’s guitar hinted at the direction the Partikel is taking with its new album Counteraction, in which the band is further augmented by strings, a second saxophone and electronic wizardry. Its metallic, almost ethereal qualities added a fascinating contrast to the Partikel sound palette. Law also contributed ‘Aquilinus’ to the band’s book, explaining that it was the only word of interest that he derived from a recent reading of H.G. Wells’ dystopian novel, ‘When the Sleeper Wakes’. Make of it what you will, but for Aquilinus read ‘Eagle-like’.
By the way, lacking a music stand, he rummaged through the theatre’s props cupboard to find a nice wooden tea trolley for the job. He arrived on stage looking as if he were about to serve refreshments to the band and audience.
As ever, the Progress Theatre proved an ideal venue for such an intensely listenable band, with a perfect balance of sound in which every nuance could be enjoyed with crystalline clarity; Partikel and audience truly felt as one. Thanks are due to sound/lighting wizard Martin Noble, and to Stuart McCubbin and his front-of-house team, for their warm welcome and hospitality.
Counteraction clearly marks a watershed in the evolution of Partikel. One hopes that in exploring new territory they will not lose the empathy and interaction which is such a distinctive feature of the band. They extol the joyous spirit of adventure that makes for great jazz, and makes them one of the most exciting bands on the current UK scene.
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre, Reading | Friday 3 March 2017
Ian Shaw vocals and comedy, Jamie Safir keys, Mick Hutton double bass
I defy anyone who was in the audience for Ian Shaw’s appearance at Reading’s Progress Theatre on Friday 3 March, to admit that they were not moved by some aspect of his performance. Like him or not (and judging by the audience response very few, if any, punters fell into that latter category) Shaw is not someone you can ignore. In my own case, as a complete newcomer to the unique phenomena of his performance, his outrageous sense of humour almost reduced me to tears; I was knocked out by his musicality and left in awe by the strength and humanity of his convictions.
So where to begin? How about taking each of those things in turn … first, his humour.
As Shaw took to the tiny stage, amid shouts and rapturous applause from the audience, it was immediately clear that here stood an agent provocateur of the first order and so it proved. A subversive force seemed to be at work, provoking gales of laughter with surrealistically convoluted tales of growing up in strict-Baptist north Wales, childhood kleptomania and the acquisition of a vast collection of brightly coloured wax crayons, writing to the BBC in the hope that Jimmy Saville could ‘fix-it’ for him to meet Rolf Harris, his dislike of gay-bars, (‘I just can’t breathe in for that long,’ he confessed) and various other episodes from his life, including the strange tale of the ‘doctor and the juicer’.
Holding the final note of one song, he reached forward to his music stand, desperate to find the right page of his music score so that he could bring the song to an end. Still holding the note, he fumbled through the sheets; backwards and forwards – there was no sign of the crucial page. We could feel his desperation. And so it went on; until finally, yes, he found the sheet and could close the song. Relief!
I suspect that it’s a trick he’s pulled a thousand times on stage and that it never once fails to bring the house down. Only afterwards do you think, ‘How did he hold that note so perfectly and for so long? What fantastic breath control.’
Ian Shaw has an amazing voice. It’s an instrument which he uses to express a vast range of musical sounds and emotions. He can soar effortlessly from a note of deep sadness to one of the utmost joy. His diction is crystal clear, his tone rich and full-bodied. He freely improvises complex, sometimes almost musically gymnastic, lines, building up as much tension and excitement as any trumpet or saxophone player. It’s clever, but totally honest, for the song is at the heart of his music.
He has the rare gift of taking a song, maybe something well known like Jim Webb’s ‘Wichita Linesman’ or even Lionel Bart’s ‘You Gotta Pick A Pocket Or Two’, stripping it down it its bare essentials and rebuilding it in a form that you could never have imagined. It’s a transforming process as lines, words, even syllables take on wholly new meanings.
He draws on a wonderful repertoire of songs from Joni Mitchell, Amy Winehouse, Leonard Cohen, Christine Collister, Cole Porter, Harry Warren and Michel Legrand, each sung with the joyful expression of life and yet tinged with a hint of sadness and melancholy.
Mick Hutton’s beautifully conceived bass lines and Jamie Safir’s elegant and inventive playing on keyboard (although he could readily match Shaw’s earthy funkiness when need arose), added greatly to the evening. One could sense the level of understanding between the three musicians; how carefully they listened and responded to each other’s ideas.
One thought struck me towards the end of the gig; Ian Shaw is like a throwback to the satirists that I grew up with in the nineteen sixties. I could imagine him singing alongside Millicent Martin on ‘That Was The Week That Was’, two ‘hip’ jazzers working through the events of the week, sending-up politicians, royalty, the church – in fact anyone, or anything that smacked of pretension, dishonesty or pomposity. How we need that today!
The final song, an original, ‘My Brother’ was dedicated to the child refugees of Calais and beyond, whose desperate plight Ian Shaw has espoused so vigorously in recent years through his work in the field, raising funds and lobbying the Government. A collection at the end of the gig raised almost £400 to support Phone Credit for Displaced Persons, a charitable organisation that provides vital phone credit to refugees and displaced adults and children across Europe. As I said at the outset, one cannot fail to be moved by Ian Shaw.
The publicity before the gig promised ‘an evening of rollercoaster musical emotion and non-stop entertainment’. And so it proved to be.
As ever, the Progress Theatre team provided a warm welcome on a night of particularly inhospitable weather, while sound/lighting man Martin Noble received a well deserved ‘thank you’ from Ian Shaw.
Final comment comes from bass player Mick Hutton. ‘You’ve got a car park,’ he remarked. Match that Ronnie Scott’s?
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre, Reading | Friday 27 January 2017
Derek Nash (saxes), Dave Newton (keyboard), Geoff Gascoyne (bass), Sebastiaan De Krom (drums), Martin Shaw (trumpet/flugelhorn)
2017 marks the 100th anniversary of the first jazz recording. To honour this historic occasion, Master of Ceremonies Jim Wade opened the gig at the Progress Theatre on 27 January, with the opening bars of ‘Livery Stable Blues’, played by the Original Dixieland Jass Band. Coupled with ‘Dixie Jass Band One Step’ as a 78rpm shellac disc, it caused a sensation and sold a million copies worldwide; heralding the arrival of a new musical form of such spirit and youthful exuberance, however quaint and antiquated it may sound by modern standards, that altered the course of musical history.
What, I wondered, would those early jazz pioneers have made of Derek Nash and his Acoustic Quartet with special guest Martin Shaw. Would they have recognised his music as being part of their evolutionary line?
I suspect that the musical journey which Derek invited the capacity audience to share; the technical brilliance of the players and the sophistication and emotional depth of the music itself would surely have left them open-mouthed in wonder. And yet, I hope they would also have felt that here were five kindred spirits at work, expressing themselves in the same joyous, free-wheeling, uninhibited ‘let’s-see-where-this-will-take-us’ manner which first captured the imagination of listeners a century ago.
An intriguing and irresistible groove, laid down by Dave Newton and the rhythm section, set the musical journey in motion and led unexpectedly into ‘Secret Love’, a far remove from Doris Day’s great hit of the early fifties, with Martin Shaw’s majestic trumpet creating a perfect foil to the searing alto of Derek Nash. With Nash switching to baritone sax and Shaw to flugelhorn for Jerome Kern’s ‘All The Things You Are’, Sebastiaan de Krom’s subtle brush-work and Geoff Gascoyne’s lovely bass lines, immediately evoked the legendary Gerry Mulligan/Chet Baker Quartet and the gentle breeze of West Coast ‘Cool’. Mulligan operated without a piano, but fortunately for us, having laid out for the opening, Dave Newton’s lightness of touch added to the delicate, interweaving lines of the front-line and raised the temperature markedly in a richly swinging solo.
Readers of a certain age may well remember the BBC Northern Dance Orchestra (NDO), which broadcast regularly on the old Light Programme, and also provided the pit-band for ‘The Good Old Days’ on BBC TV. Derek’s father, Pat, contributed greatly to the orchestra’s success as an arranger. Steeped in such a musical background, and meeting great stars like Ken Dodd, (‘They would call in for tea at home,’ Derek remembers. ‘I just thought it was like that for all kids.’) it’s no wonder that Derek stepped into his father’s footsteps to pursue a career in music.
As a dedication to his father, Derek took up his curved soprano sax to play a tune they had composed together. Originally known simply as ‘Waltz’, the wistful, lyrical charm of ‘Waltz For My Father’, as the tune is now titled, was a joy to behold. Again, the front-line contrast between the passion of Derek Nash’s soprano and the sensitivity of Shaw’s flugelhorn added an achingly exquisite beauty to the tune.
Thelonious Monk is mainly noted for two things: the genius of his music and his verbal silence. It came as a surprise therefore to learn from Derek Nash that Monk had, in 1960, put together a list of advice notes for his fellow musicians. Such as: ‘Don’t play everything (or every time); let some things go by. Some music just imagined. What you don’t play can be more important than what you do’; ‘A note can be as small as a pin or as big as the world. It depends on your imagination;’ ‘When you’re swinging, swing some more!’
With these thoughts in mind, the band launched into another pearl of ‘Monk Wisdom’ (and the title track of a recent Derek Nash album, voted No. 5 in the 2016 British Jazz Awards for Best New CD of the year), ‘You Gotta Dig It To Dig It, You Dig?’ Preaching alto, razor sharp trumpet, a rich toned, funky bass , sparkling piano and a display of drumming to die for – the perfect end to the first set and as Monk would have said, ‘Always leave them wanting more!’
The second set of our ‘musical journey’ opened appropriately enough with ‘Joyriding’, a bluesy ‘Sidewinderish’ original from Derek Nash, which featured his booting tenor saxophone, and summoned-up all the helter-skelter excitement suggested by the title.
‘Contrafacting’, Derek explained, is the art of creating a new melody line over an existing harmonic structure, a practice the beboppers used to excellent effect, not only transforming tunes to make them more challenging to play, (‘Back Home In Indiana’ became ‘Donna Lee’, ‘Whispering’ acquired a new identity in ‘Hot House’) but also set up a new source of royalties. Charlie Parker’s ‘Moose the Mooche’ was based on ‘I Got Rhythm’, though sadly any royalties he managed to accrue found their way directly to the drug dealer so colourfully named.
‘I’m Getting Temperamental Over You’ bore a strong resemblance, in title at least, to Tommy Dorsey’s signature tune, but this rendition was certainly more ‘temperamental’ than ‘sentimental’. Amongst many delights it featured a wonderful solo from Dave Newton at his most effervescent and strideful. It was also a case of ‘spot the quote’ which came thick and fast in the short exchanges before the number came to an abrupt end.
Russ Ferrante’s ‘Homecoming’ was perfectly placed in the programme to evoke feelings of longing for one’s homeland, before we hit the colour and excitement of arriving at home itself – in this case New Orleans. ‘You look like the sort of crowd who’d like to join in with the bass drum,’ Derek announced as he set the audience in motion with the ‘Bo Diddley Clap’. ‘It’s a clapping, not a disease,’ he added reassuringly.
And so with an affectionate nod to the rumbustious rhythms of New Orleans, and stand out solos from all and sundry, especially Sebastiaan de Krom on drums, the evening drew towards a close. Though not before a final statement from Derek Nash, revealing something that we’d suspected all along: ‘Im Old Fashioned’. What a fantastic tune to end a memorable journey in sound.
As ever, the Progress Theatre team provided a warm welcome to the sell-out crowd, with perfect sound and lighting.
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Nathaniel Facey (alto), Lewis Wright (vibes), Tom Farmer (double bass) and Shaney Forbes (drums) are the sharp suited members of Empirical, our guests on the 16 December.
I first came across Nathaniel Facey when he was touring with trumpeter Abram Wilson, who tragically died a few years ago. Also in the band was Shaney Forbes. They were at Trinity College at the time, and both stood out to me as stars of the future.
Sure enough, a couple of years later, I saw that they had formed a band called Empirical. This was the band’s first incarnation and as a quintet were booked in 2007 for my series of “Jazz n Stuff” at South Hill Park, Bracknell. Jay Phelps on trumpet with Kit Downs piano were the members of the band who subsequently left and Lewis Wright joined in 2008.
So, being together for almost nine years means that these guys have developed an in depth musical understanding, obviously appreciate their individual influences and those that are mutual. The result is recognition by numerous bodies over the years, including in 2016, Ensemble of The Year Parliamentary Jazz Award and Best Jazz Act at Urban Music Awards. and several acclaimed albums, most of which feature original compositions and could be easily described as in the genre of Contemporary or indeed, Free Jazz.
Which brings me to the performance at Progress on the 16 December.
This comprised music from the latest CD, “Connection”. I think it fair to say that the audience in the majority was not familiar with the band’s music or ability. Of course, within a few moments of the opening number they were absorbed and won over.
The compositions all displayed the aim of wishing to connect with the audience from a rhythmical point of view and to make the improvisations and interplay during those individual moments exciting and approachable. Each composition had a melodious feel and chord structure to enable soloists to stretch out and dazzle.
I am a big fan of the vibes and Lewis Wright brings out the beauty of those shimmering chords under the free flowing alto of Facey or polyrhythms of Forbes. Not to mention the intricate bass solos and ever inventive bass bedrock exhibited by Tom Farmer, who also wrote the majority of the tunes.
As is usual in a live performance, the tracks on the album became stretched out compared to the recording. Never did I feel that a soloist overstayed his welcome such was the brilliance of each individual and the changing nuances of the ensemble sounds behind solos. In fact, it was noticeable that the audience was so absorbed by the music and what was going on, that the habitual and normal applause for a solo did not happen as it usually would.
After two hours of fascinating and yes, beautiful, music, our attentive and enraptured audience gave the band a lengthy closing ovation that resulted in a welcome encore and a satisfying conclusion to the gig.
Review posted here by kind permission of Bob Draper
Progress Theatre: Friday 4 November 2016
Ben Holder (violin, keys, vocals), Paul Jefferies (bass), Jez Cook (guitar), Dave Wilkes (drums)
The irrepressible force of human of nature that is Ben Holder sent shock waves through the Progress Theatre from which it is no doubt still reverberating many days after his appearance on Friday 4 November. One is swept along by the astonishing power of his stage personality, the infectious joy of his playing – virtuosic violin, engaging vocals, raucous piano, and irresistible sense of fun. Ben Holder is the complete jazz entertainment package, interpreting the past glories of the Great American Songbook with his own original compositions in a way that is in complete accord with the ears of a contemporary audience. Indeed, here’s a suggestion: an evening with the Ben Holder Quartet should be available on prescription from the NHS as a restorative for all known ailments
Yes, one could argue that sometimes his playing bordered on the frantic and that he seemed dead set on packing every note possible into each solo (Didn’t Art Tatum and Oscar Peterson once face the same criticism?). But frankly who cares. There’s nothing contrived or mechanical in his playing; it simply oozes with jazz spirit, spontaneity and a carefree determination to push the boundaries of expression to their full limits. And yet, a single, beautifully placed note in Hoagy Carmichael’s ‘Sky Lark’, breathtaking in its purity, pointed to an emotional depth that Holder has yet to explore. His potential to become a great musician is enormous
While the hyper-active Holder paced the stage, ripping through standards such as ‘Cheek To Cheek’ and ‘They Can’t Take That Away From Me’ or bringing a fresh interpretation to the Lennon and McCartney classic ‘Can’t Buy me Love’ (he really does excel at getting into the story of a song), switching seamlessly from violin to vocal or piano, one couldn’t help but be impressed by the avuncular presence of Paul Jefferies and Jez Cook. The combination of Jefferies’ rock-steady, rich toned bass and Cook’s lyrical, blues inflected guitar really held the band together. Meanwhile, Dave Wilkes’ powerhouse drumming, ever alert to any mischief his leader might be getting up to, kept things swinging. He’s an absolute master of the ‘shuffle’ rhythm. Had space in the tiny Progress auditorium allowed, the audience would surely have been on their feet and dancing in the aisles to the Louis Prima-styled numbers ‘Pennies From Heaven’ and ‘I’m In The Mood For Love’
Holder has a true entertainer’s feel for ‘playing an audience’. Everything is delivered in breathless style – literally, and just as one wonders whatever is going to happen next, a sharp intelligence restores order to the apparent chaos. The programme is perfectly arranged. A technically brilliant original such as ‘Sweet Potato’ balances more familiar fare like ‘It Don’t Mean A Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing’’, the gorgeously romantic ‘I Wish You Love’ from the pen of Charles Trenet or ‘Rosetta’, a rarely heard gem from Earl Hines. All of which is interspersed with hilarious ‘chat’, ranging in subject matter from the state of modern song writing to the embarrassments of mispronouncing the French language to a French audience, or misusing the French language entirely whilst pursuing a courtship with an, unbeknown to him, French translator
The abiding strength of the band itself is the understanding and empathy between its four members, allowing the music to head off into new territory with lightning speed. ‘You’, a bluesy original with a latin feel, was developing a nice head of steam, when Holder’s strummed violin signalled a swift gear change veering the tune into ‘St Thomas’ and in the process transforming Sonny Rollin’s relaxed calypso into an errant flagwaver. Similar magic was at work at the close of the evening. Ben Holder’s conjurer’s hand transformed a blistering ‘Billie’s Bounce’, into a rocking ‘Route 66’ which vied back-and-forth with ‘When You’re Smiling’ as the finale to an amazing gig
As the audience reluctantly made its way out of the Progress into the dark November night, Jazz in Reading’s Steve Wellings was knocked out by the number of positive comments made to him. ‘I don’t ever remember hearing such a generous response to a band,’ he commented. All of which makes one aspect of an otherwise outstanding and truly memorable evening doubly disappointing; the number of empty seats! Jazz in Reading fans, where were you?
To echo a remark from Gabriel Garrick, ‘An audience! This is what we want. Let’s stand on the rooftops and shout, “Wake up! Let’s fill the venues and really get jazz happening!” he declared shortly after his 2015 Progress gig with his Expansions Quintet. Hear,hear
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre: Friday 2 September 2016
Brandon Allen (tenor), Ross Stanley (Hammond organ), Nigel Price (guitar), Matt Home (drums)
The buzzing full-house at the Progress Theatre bore witness to a series of remarkable ‘firsts’ on Friday 2 September. The first gig in the new season of ‘Jazz in Reading’; the first date in the Nigel Price Organ Quartet’s Arts Council funded national tour; the first time that Nigel has ever played in a c.1942 Malayan miners’ hut – reference to the stage setting for the forthcoming production of ‘The Long and The Short and The Tall’, and the first time that a ‘real’ Hammond organ has graced the theatre’s stage. No doubt many giants of the theatre have trodden its boards, but the Hammond, with its unique and all-embracing tones, stood in a class of its own.
On such an occasion, there could only be one choice for the opening number; ‘This Could Be the Start of Something Big’. After a beautifully mellifluous introduction from Price, it was a case of ‘all hands to the pump’ as Brandon Allen’s fiery tenor set Steve Allen’s classic swinger in full motion. One can only hazard a guess at what heights the band will achieve by the close of its 56 gig national tour. Incidentally this is the first jazz tour the Arts Council has supported for several years, for which Nigel has ‘sweated blood’ to get on the road. On the basis of this performance they are already fast approaching the magical number ‘11’.
And what about Ross Stanley’s Hammond organ; it truly is the ‘real’ thing, complete with a Leslie Cabinet, from which emanated the warm glow of its valves – no electronic simulation here! Ross Stanley produces a very personal sound, handling the huge keyboard with the deft touch of a Formula 1 racing driver. The instrument generates a powerful sense of tension and excitement like no other.
The Quartet’s strengths became more and more apparent as the set progressed, through ‘Stealing Time’ (a slightly quirky number based on the chords of Kurt Weill’s ‘Speak Low’) and ‘Darn That Dream’, a gorgeous tribute to the recently deceased guitarist Louis Stewart, which cleverly segued into ‘It Ain’t Necessarily So’. The contrast between the warmth and subtlety of Price’s guitar and the much harder edge of Brandon Allen’s passionate tenor works really well. There is an incredible level of understanding within the band and a special sense of space and time which keeps the music in constant motion and open to imperceptible shifts in mood, voicing and rhythm. Listening to the band, with its solo strength, awesome ensemble sound, underpinned by Ross Stanley’s organ bass-lines and the magnificently straight-ahead drumming and immaculate brushwork of Matt Home, was an absolute delight … and there was more to come!
Steve Wellings, founder and continuing inspiration behind ‘Jazz in Reading’ came to the stage at the opening of the second set to pay tribute to our ‘dear friend, colleague and jazz aficionado Nigel Dacombe who died in July’. Steve reflected on the arduous early days of ‘Jazz in Reading’, some twelve years ago, when he single-handedly multi-tasked as a booking, manager, promoter and publicist. ‘Nigel,’ he recalled, ‘was the first to put himself forward with an offer of help. I accepted with open arms.’ With his vast knowledge of jazz, accrued through hours listening at the record deck and travelling to hundreds of venues across the UK and beyond, Nigel proved to be a perfect colleague. He painstakingly compiled a comprehensive gig list as a free service to ‘Jazz in Reading’ enthusiasts, used his PR skills to publicize events and to secure coverage on local radio and brought his own stamp to booking bands – we have Nigel to thank for the appearance of the Nigel Price Organ Quartet.
‘His contributions to the team effort will be difficult to replace,’ Steve continued. ‘He will be sorely missed by those of us who knew and worked with him. Not least, by his widow Julie, and two daughters, Jo and Sarah, who have joined us tonight to help us remember him fondly, and to celebrate his life in jazz. As a mark of respect for him, we’ve arranged for tonight’s band to play one of his favourite tunes; appropriately, ‘My Favourite Things’. But first, if you have a glass in your hand, may I ask you to raise it to his memory – to Nigel.’
Alone, Nigel Price took up his place on stage to produce the most movingly, beautiful performance of ‘My Favourite Things’ that one could imagine, full or warmth and deep tenderness. As the band members joined him and with everyone in full flight the number gained in emotional intensity à la Coltrane in a way that Nigel Dacombe would, I hope, have thoroughly approved.
The unmistakable stamp of Henry Mancini could be felt throughout a fine performance of ‘Dreamsville’, one of his lesser known tunes, with lovely tenor from Brandon Allen before … ‘Someone’s gonna have a heart attack and it’s gonna be me,’ Nigel declared at the end of a breakneck-speed version of Toots Thielemans’ ‘Bluesette’ – a tribute to the Belgian composer, guitarist and harmonica player who died aged 94 on 22 August. It’s usually played in light-hearted waltz time. Not in this case – Nigel opened the throttle and it was ‘full speed ahead’. Fantastic!
Jule Styne and Sammy Cahn’s ‘I Fall in Love Too Easily’, an early hit for Frank Sinatra, helped restore pulse rates to normal, but not for long. Brandon Allen dug firmly into his blues roots to close the gig on the highest note possible with ‘Booze Blues’.
I could only think of one word to sum up the evening, ‘Wow’. Lovers of jazz across the UK – prepare to be taken by storm by the Nigel Price Organ Quartet. An experience not to be missed!
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre: Friday 24 June 2016
Theo Travis (flute, soprano & tenor saxophones), Mike Outram (guitar), Pete Whittaker (Hammond organ), Dylan Howe (drums).
When, or perhaps if, at some point in the future I am asked the question, “Where were you on the day the people of the United Kingdom voted in a referendum to leave the European Union?” I shall reply in the following way:
“After nine weeks of the hyperbole and gobbledy-gook that politicians on both sides of the argument tried to pass off as mature political debate, a night spent watching the results build-up on their irrevocable course to Brexit, followed by a day watching the ‘great and good’ delivering their shocked reactions, I thankfully escaped to the refuge and welcoming atmosphere of the Progress Theatre to be blown-away by Theo Travis’ Double Talk.”
What a band! Theo himself is a superb flautist and master of both the soprano and tenor saxophones whose great writing was firmly in evidence throughout the evening. Mike Outram uses a superb technique to conjure wonderful sounds from his guitar and to draw every ounce of expression from his instrument. Pete Whittaker, sits in quiet composure at his hammond organ, providing the bass-lines, filling-in the backgrounds and soloing to great effect. Dylan Howe, a visually stunning musician, produces an out-flow of energy from his drums that sets the band alight. And yet, while there were moments of remarkable individual virtuosity, and some totally free playing, the band’s other great strength is in the quality of Travis’ writing; a tightly structured amalgam of straight-ahead jazz/rock and more ethereal progressive sounds, in which he subtly combines a range of instrumental colours, drawing on such influences as Robert Wyatt and Palle Mikkelbourg.
‘Ascending’, the opening number with Travis on soprano, seemed to pick up on the momentous decision cast earlier in the day, a plaintive cry expressing the feeling that things would never be quite the same again. Mournful, almost funereal in tone, it held the audience spellbound. Syd Barrett’s ‘See Emily Play’ brought a lighter touch to the proceedings. I have to admit that I’ve never paid too much attention to this number despite its classic status, but thoroughly enjoyed this instrumental interpretation as it built to a maelstrom of sound.
Theo Travis explained his personal connection to Pink Floyd – out of the blue came a phone call from rock legend Dave Gilmour. Surely this must be a wind-up? No, it was the man himself, with an invitation for Theo to join his band on a European tour in 2015, playing six concerts in five incredible amphitheatres: Arena Pula, Croatia; Verona Arena and Teatro de Mulina, Florence, Italy; Theatre Antique d’Orange, France; and Konig-Pilsener Arena, Oberhausen, Germany. Thanks be to Theo, and the Jazz in Reading team, for bringing the magic of those magnificent venues to the humbler, though no less enthusiastic surroundings, of Reading’s Progress Theatre.
‘Transgression’, the title track from Double Talk’s most recent album, evolved slowly from a lovely, almost psychedelic opening, with flute and guitar, to an impassioned tenor solo that gradually brought the tune full circle to a gentle conclusion. The blues drenched ‘Smokin’ at Klooks’, with Mike Outram’s wailing guitar, and Travis’ flute a powerful reminder of the late and much lamented Harold McNair, paid due homage to ‘Klook’s Kleek’. A key venue in the rhythm n’ blues/rock revolution of the nineteen-sixties, this musical crucible helped forge the rise of performers such as Graham Bond, John McLaughlin and Ginger Baker. Located in the unlikely surroundings of the Railway Hotel, West Hampstead, next to the Decca recording studios, it had become a comedy club by the time Theo visited it. ‘Smokin’ and ‘Portobello 67’, a feature for Pete Whittaker’s soulful organ which brought the first set to a close, captured the heady excitement of those turbulent pioneering days.
‘Fire Mountain’ took up the mantle from the first set, a volcanic eruption of sound and energy. ‘Everything I Feared’ was a much more ambivalent number; Outram’s edgy guitar cutting against Travis’ gorgeous flute as it floated gracefully above Whittaker’s insistent bass line. It seemed to be asking a series of questions without ever quite managing to find the answers. Superb!
Travis explored the full range of his tenor to express the joys of childhood in a dedication to his son, ‘Song for Samuel’, which also featured a warm-toned and wonderfully lyrical solo from Mike Outram. By contrast, ‘The Relegation of Pluto’, a ‘tongue-in-cheek’ lament for Pluto’s reclassification as a dwarf planet, set out to explore the outer limits of the Solar System with suitably ascribed ‘space’ sounds and then launched Dylan Howe to assert Pluto’s rightful status with a dramatic drum solo.
Robert Wyatt’s beautifully restful ‘Maryan’ perfectly maintained the harmony of the spheres, before Travis swapped his flute for soulful tenor to dig a ‘Stax-like’ groove and bring a tremendous evening to a close with ‘Sweet Emma’. But how could a gig conclude without an encore? The rapturous calls for ‘More!’ brought the band back to the stage for ‘Goodbye Pork Pie Hat’, Charles Mingus’ hauntingly melancholic elegy for Lester Young; a fitting close to an extraordinary day.
The gig also marked the end of a wonderful season of jazz at the Progress Theatre presented by ‘Jazz in Reading’. It began last September with the Simon Spillett/Pete King tribute to Tubby Hayes and continued unabated with Gabriel Garrick, Darius Brubeck, Andy Shepherd’s Hotel Bristol, The Moscow Drug Club, Arun Ghosh, Stuart Henderson/Vasilis Xenopoulos, Georgia Mancio with Quadro, the Scott Willcox Big Band and finally Theo Travis’ Double Talk, fulfilling a total commitment to bring the very best of modern jazz to the provincial outpost of Reading.
Jazz at Progress now takes a short break until 2 September when action will resume with the Nigel Price Quartet. Meanwhile, the Chiltern Hills will be alive with the sound of jazz on Saturday 16 July when Art Themen’s New Directions Quintet, Jason Rebello’s Quartet and the Anglo-American ‘Super Group’, The Impossible Gentlemen, featuring Gwilym Simcock and no doubt playing tracks from their latest album, ‘Let’s Get deluxe’ will take to the stage at Perseverance Farm, Harpsden in ‘Jazz For Kamuli’, a charity jazz event to raise funds for the Kamuli Mission Hospital in Uganda. Full details are available on www.jazzinreading.com
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre, Reading Friday 27th May 2016
Scott Willcox leading and conducting: Gabriel Garrick, Andy Gibson (trumpets); Nick Mills (trombone); Bob Mckay, Tony Woods, Duncan Eagles, Julian Costello (reeds); Dave Frankel (piano); Ben Hazelton (bass); Eric Ford (drums).
From its formative days the development of jazz has been inextricably linked with the church, sometimes as a source of spiritual inspiration, often as a practical training ground for generations of singers and musicians; Thelonious Monk accompanied his mother’s singing in church, and as an influence on the constantly evolving sounds and styles of jazz expression. Where would we be without ‘When The Saints Come Marching In’? And how often do words like ‘soulful’ or ‘spirited’ crop up in even the most academic of jazz criticisms? The nineteen sixties saw a spate of titles like ‘The Preacher’ or ‘The Sermon’, Duke Ellington devised his own form of worship through his Sacred Concerts, John Coltrane set off on a spiritual journey through ‘A Love Supreme’ and beyond, though some will argue that his quest took him to regions where neither God nor the sun managed to shine. Closer to home, Michael Garrick took the Litany and placed it in a jazz setting with ‘Jazz Praises’ which raised the comment, ‘Ferocity in Church’ when it was performed in St Paul’s Cathedral. Such ventures have divided critics and fans alike over the years, but there can no denying the link between the church and jazz, anymore than we can deny the significance of the role played by jazz bands in New Orleans burials. It’s not just the stuff of legend, it’s a huge part of the music’s heritage.
Let’s now switch our attention to St Andrew’s Baptist Church in the Thameside location of Shepperton in west London, where Scott Willcox formerly directed the music. Thirty-five years ago he tired of searching for new music to enhance the services, decided on a little DIY and wrote his own. He has since built up a remarkable body of work, which embraces all forms of musical styles and which has been performed at The Albert Hall, the Purcell Room, St. John’s Smith Sq., Fairfield Halls and Westminster Central Hall. His unique approach to big band composition and arrangement has emerged more recently; first with the ensemble Backbeat, which evolved into the wonderfully named Band Substance and eventually, to bring the music to a jazz audience, the fifteen piece Scott Willcox Big Band.
A scaled-down ten piece version of the band not only filled the tiny stage of Reading’s Progress Theatre on Friday 27th May, but very nearly blew off the roof with its impressive sound and boundless energy. It has to be said, however, that things started a little more gently and perhaps rather deceptively, with a nicely shuffling arrangement of Carole King’s ’I’m Into Something Good’. ‘Regular Fries’ revealed the full impact of the band’s sound, the range of Willcox’s musical imagination and the fascinating originality of his compositional style. It’s tightly written, themes develop in wave-like motions, with each musician adding his distinctive voice to the ensemble, sometimes alone in short phrases or in an ever changing variety of combinations with other instruments. It’s kaleidoscopic in effect, though firmly anchored by the magnificently punchy drumming of Eric Ford and the tireless efforts of Nick Mills, the ‘one-man’ trombone section who worked his socks off throughout the evening from a rather solitary position in the corner of the stage. The pieces tended to be quite short; Willcox resists the temptation to open things up with extended solos, concentrating instead on the structure of the compositions, though having said that, the evening featured wonderful individual contributions from each of the players. It’s as if Willcox has resurrected the concept of the 78 rpm record format, making sure that not a single note is wasted within the short running time. Compositions end, once the musical statement is complete, with a firmly applied full-stop, or an enigmatic question mark, leaving the listener to wonder where the music might next lead.
I hope this doesn’t make the music sound staid or contrived. It’s not! ‘African Dance’ was full of gaiety, a riot of rhythm and rich sound colours, brilliantly evoking the intense sunlight of the African landscape, while ‘Casa Andreina’ brought to mind a more restful scene of Atlantic rollers brushing a Canary Island seashore. The band raced like the clappers on ‘Go For It!’, ‘Bouncing Back’ and ‘All Change’, an edgy, nervy, harum-scarum train ride of a number, with each player desperately holding onto the count for fear of falling off, and set feet tapping and the hands clapping with ‘Can’t Complain’, an intriguing number featuring Nick Mills, the tenor duo of Duncan Eagles and Julian Costello plus the rhythm section, and ‘Make Mine Mambo’. ‘2nd Thoughts’, with the muted trumpets of Gabriel Garrick and Andy Gibson, was more gentle in approach and reminiscent of Neil Hefti’s writing for Count Basie.
Willcox’s writing was at its most expressive in ‘Song For A Special Friend’ and the sublime settings of the traditional folk songs ‘The Water Is Wide’ and ‘Slane’ (a tune perhaps best known in its hymnal form as ‘Lord of All Hopefulness’). Tony Woods soloed beautifully on each, first on alto and secondly on soprano. ‘Where Next?’ was also deeply moving, almost mournful in effect with a haunting solo by Julian Costello and atmospheric piano from Dave Frankel. Despite its title ‘The Eternal Triangle’ was more an exploration of relationships in time rather than human affairs; excellent bass line from Ben Hazelton and an incisive clarinet solo by Bob McKay.
Scott is possibly the least demonstrative band leader you will ever find. He directed operations from a precariously balanced music stand at the front of the stage, counted the musicians in and then retreated stage left to let the scores speak for themselves via the skill, talent and experience of the assembled musicians who clearly relished the challenge of the writing. He would sometimes gesture with his hand to indicate either less or more power, and only reappeared to bring a number to an emphatic close. He is also blessed with a gentle sense of humour, announcing ‘Bouncing Back’ as being composed by the Irish tunesmith ‘Rick O’Shea’ and presented a delightfully cheeky ‘Putting on The Ritz’, in which even Fred Astaire would have been hard-pushed to keep pace with the tricky arrangement.
By his own admission, Scott Willcox is a modest pianist and barely competent guitarist. No matter, he expresses himself perfectly and with great honesty through the joyous sound of his big band. His orchestra truly is his instrument.
I may be in danger of repeating myself, but there can be no doubt that the intimacy of the Progress Theatre, its fine acoustics and unique atmosphere has an inspiring effect on both players and audience alike, a quality which readily communicates itself. It really is a great venue for jazz gigs and once again many thanks to the team who make it all possible.
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre: Friday 22 April 2016
“I couldn’t miss my jazz!” one gentleman remarked as he lifted a welcome pint in the bar after a horrendous two-hour journey to the Progress Theatre. “It usually takes me twenty minutes,” he continued. “It’s chaos out there.” Reading had come to a standstill; the fatal combination of Friday traffic, torrential rain and an accident which closed the M4 had brought Reading to a standstill. The faithful steadily grew in number, each with only one question on his or her mind, “Do we have a band?”
Thankfully, the answer was “Yes”. Quadro took to the stage and what better way to dispel miserable thoughts than to open the programme with the luscious harmonies of Ellington’s ‘Prelude to a Kiss’, which led seamlessly into Billy Strayhorn’s ‘Day Dream’. Quadro, as Georgia Mancio explained, means ‘to paint’ when translated from Italian to English, which is exactly what the group proceeded to do, creating a richly varied gallery of images with a range of musical brushstrokes and colours that held the audience truly spellbound throughout the two-hour programme.`
Individually, the members of Quadro are absolute masters of their art. Georgia uses her voice as an instrument in its own right; it was just as if a tenor saxophone was playing when she took a wordless solo, on ‘Just in Time’. Her diction is perfect and sense of time impeccable. She can negotiate the most tricky of tunes with consummate ease – ‘One For Bud’ for example, a spark-flying bebop dedication to Bud Powell (or should it be Budweiser?) which she composed in collaboration with the New Zealand pianist Alan Broadbent. The warmth and maturity of her voice wrung every last drop of heartbreaking emotion from ‘But Beautiful’ and expressed the wistful splendour of Kurt Weill’s ‘My Ship’ to perfection. Isn’t it remarkable how songs of such timeless quality could have emerged from two almost forgotten Hollywood ‘pot-boilers’: ‘The Road to Rio’ and ‘The Lady in The Dark’.
By turns Georgia dug into Stanley Turrentine’s earthy blues ‘Sugar’, with its wonderfully non-pc line, ‘sugar is what you need to sweeten up your life’, evoked the light breezes and sun-drenched beaches of Brazil in Jobin’s ‘Modinha’ and ‘A Felicidade’, which made the same writer’s yearning for a departed homeland in ‘Chega de Saudade’ all the more poignant and reflected on the fragility of life in ‘Fragile’ by Sting. Equally, she delivered “The Things We Did Last Summer” with tremendous verve and a sense of fun that even included a whistling solo. Yes, a marvellous, brilliantly tuneful whistling solo!
Georgia’s heartfelt personal testimony to the plight of children trapped in the horrors of the ‘Calais Jungle’ and her work in support of Care4Calais, brought a much deeper meaning to Luiz Bonfá’s ‘Gentle Rain’. Dedicated to displaced people around the world, its haunting lyrics by Matt Dubey and a beautiful bass introduction by Andy Cleyndert, served to remind us that music is a powerful means to inspire simple acts of kindness and express the generosity of human spirit.
Though Mancio, Harrison and Cleyndert are all world class soloists in their own right, the sum of the respective parts lifts Quadro to an even higher level of creativity; the interplay within the band was a constant delight. Frank Harrison has the moonlight touch and glittering style one associates with Bill Evans. He uses his prodigious technique to explore each tiny nuance a tune has to offer, while Cleyndert draws on his vast experience to conjure a wonderful sound from his bass, solos with great lyricism and makes more sense with one note than some players attain with a flurry of activity. Even within the limitations of the trio format and fixed instrumentation, they were able to achieve great variation, not just in the choice of material, but also in the style of delivery with one player sometimes laying out, or taking a smaller, though equally valid role in the background. To all intents and purposes Quadro is a band without ego. Thoughtful, reflective and richly entertaining, their music touches the heart, the mind and spirit.
Once again, the Progress Theatre proved its versatility as a venue able to present all styles of jazz with equal success. For once, Martin Noble, the man responsible for the high quality of sound and lighting made a fleeting appearance from his box at the back of the auditorium to acknowledge the thanks of MC Jim Wade. Other members of the Progress team made sure that everybody, including the band, received a warm reception at the door after lengthy journeys to reach the theatre in difficult circumstances. The effort to keep everyone up-to-date with changes in timings was especially welcome – National travel companies – please note!
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre: Friday 24 March 2016
‘Cookin’’ is an epithet that immediately brings to mind an entire genre of jazz associated with the Blue Note record label and the work of trumpet masters like Clifford Brown and Lee Morgan and tenor saxophonists Dexter Gordon and Joe Henderson; lyrical, technically challenging, emotionally charged and above all – hard-swinging and full of joyful spirit. It perfectly describes the music brought to the stage of the Progress Theatre by Stuart Henderson and Vasilis Xenopoulos with the Simon Price Trio.
‘Montmartre’, from the pen of Dexter Gordon, set the scene with Xenopoulos’ slightly laid-back approach on tenor contrasting nicely with the full-toned attack of Henderson’s trumpet. And yet one had the sense that rather like a well-tuned Formula-one racing car they were each holding back on their reserves of power, which added greatly to the tension and excitement of the playing. Guitarist Jez Cook, a last minute dep for the ailing Pete Billington, slotted into the band as if they had all been playing together for years, while Raph Mizraki on bass and Simon Price on drums demonstrated why they are held in such high regard locally and by visiting musicians to Reading.
‘Corner Pocket’ captured the spirit and unique dynamics of the Count Basie Orchestra in full-flight. A brief and rather cheekily inserted quote from ‘Cherry Pink, Apple Blossom White’ served to introduce Henderson’s beautifully warm and inventive contribution, paving the way for Xenopoulos to glide effortlessly into his solo and great exchanges between the various members of the band.
Before launching into the next number, Stuart Henderson took a short breather to make a pitch for CD sales at the interval. “Buy one, get one,” he announced in the inimitable manner of a guy with origins in the north-west of England. “Buy two,” he continued, his voice rising with excitement. “Get two!”
Tom Harrell’s ‘Terrestris’ (actually a fruit bearing Mediterranean plant with interesting qualities) brought a change of mood and settled into a Latin groove with Xenopoulos switching to alto. Henderson and Xenopoulos completed the number with some intricate interplay between alto and trumpet.
The first of two ballad medleys presented beautiful interpretations of ‘When Sunny Gets Blue’ by Henderson on flugel-horn and ‘Polka Dots and Moonbeams’ by Xenopoulos on alto, which led perfectly into a delightful arrangement of Fats Waller’s ‘Jitterbug Waltz’, with Jez Cook’s guitar to the fore together with the gorgeous tones of Mizraki’s bass.
As a near-teenager, Henderson’s son considered the word ‘swag’ to be the ultimate in cool. Hence the ‘Swag Meister’, an original from Henderson Senior, which closed the first set in fiercely-swinging style with growling trumpet adding to the fun.
The second set opened with Henderson leading the way on flugel-horn with a moving performance of ‘There Is No Greater Love’, a favourite from Miles Davis’ first quintet. Xenopoulos followed with a magnificent solo built in classic style with quotes flying by with lightning speed, before Cook took up the mantle on his guitar. The number finished with a superb ‘round-robin’ of exchanges between all the musicians.
‘Beatrice’ paid tribute to its composer Sam Rivers, whose seventy-fifth birthday celebrations Stuart Henderson memorably stumbled into during a visit to New York. Playing close to the mic with muted trumpet Henderson’s ‘walking-on-eggshells’ trumpet and Xenopoulos sparse tenor captured the poignant beauty of the tune, sensitively supported by Cook and the rhythm section.
No programme would have been complete without a blues. The band duly obliged with Clifford Brown’s ‘Sandu’. Jez Cook set the groove in mid-tempo and everyone dug in; a wailing solo from Xenopoulos on alto, Henderson’s shouting trumpet, the huge sound of Mizraki’s bass and Simon Price’s driving drums – his great sense of time, punctuated by the terrific range of sounds he extracts from his kit.
Stuart Henderson’s eclectic approach to his instrument found full expression in his contribution to the second ballad medley. ‘I Can’t Get Started’ revealed the full brilliance of his tone, and the lyrical beauty of his playing, polished over twenty-five years as a bandsman in The Regimental Band of Her Majesty’s Scots Guards. As he says, “You have to be heard when you’re on the parade ground.” A seamless take-over brought Xenopoulos centre stage to present an equally effective object lesson in ballad playing with his alto feature ‘Stars Fell on Alabama’.
The concert moved towards its conclusion with two numbers by the great pianist and composer Kenny Barron. ‘Sun Shower’, a beautiful theme but with a gentle bossa-nova rhythm and Henderson’s flugel-horn hinting at an underlying sense of melancholy. It grew in intensity with solos from Cook and Xenopoulos towards an incredible climactic duet between Mizraki’s bass; he used the strings and body to produce the most wonderful conga drum-like rhythms and Simon Price’s drums. ‘Voyage’, an out-an-out swinger, brought the evening to a close; officially at least, for the band launched into ‘Take The “A” Train’ as an encore. Taken at a furious pace it gave an indication of what it might be like to travel in the future on HS2!
I recently remarked jokingly to a friend that ‘Reading was the jazz capital of the world’. He eyed me scathingly and admitted grudgingly, ‘Possibly mid-Berkshire’.
No matter. The reality is that the locality is currently blessed with a wealth of talent, of whom Stuart Henderson is a central figure with regular gigs at the Flowing Spring, the Retreat and the Abbot Cook, as well as leading a big band at Finchampstead and inspiring a new generation of players in his role as Director of Jazz at Leighton Park School. He is a player of outstanding quality and has found a perfect sparring partner in Vasilis Xenopoulos. One could sense the challenge of fresh ideas bouncing back and forth across the bandstand, but importantly neither set out to ‘cut’ the other or to outstay his welcome. Moreover, Stuart’s travelling fan club added further enthusiasm to the always lively and welcoming atmosphere of the Progress Theatre. ‘Jazz in Reading’ scored again with an evening of superb jazz, which included a richly-deserved presentation to ‘House Photographer’, Zoe White, whose wonderfully atmospheric work captures the life and times of ‘Jazz in Reading’ in the gallery on its website.
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre: Friday 26 February 2016
Perhaps it was reaction to the popular success of bandleaders from the Swing Era like Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw, or maybe for technical reasons, but there’s no doubt that the ‘bebop’ generation of jazz musicians and their followers held little regard for the expressive qualities of the instrument. Try to name more than a handful of ‘modern jazz’ clarinet players who’ve made their mark since the Second World War? You’d be hard stretched to name anybody beyond Tony Scott, Buddy De Franco and Jimmy Guiffre in the States, and Vic Ash and Tony Coe on this side of the Atlantic; and three of the aforementioned doubled on tenor saxophone!
Arun Ghosh, has dared to venture into this void as he demonstrated in an explosive manner at the Progress Theatre, on 26th February with his Quartet; Shirley Tetteh on guitar, Liran Donin on bass and drummer Rastko Rasic. Acker Bilk he is not! The lush buzz of a sitar launched Ghosh into his solo flight on the opening number Aurora, supported by a barrage of sound and shifting rhythms generated by his compatriots. The band had all the force and emotional power of the John Coltrane Quartet, richly flavoured with the spirit of the Indian sub-continent, plus a hint of Eastern Europe and West Africa, all via Ghosh’s home city of Manchester; music that simply swept you along with its vibrancy and wave after wave of invention.
Unravel followed a similar path, with Shirley Tetteh’s sparse guitar contrasting beautifully with the leader’s eloquence. Ghosh is a composer of striking originality. Uterine originally celebrated the birth of his first child and the miracle of new life, but on this occasion it was dedicated to the newly-born daughter of bass player Liran Donin. Rastko Rasic set the mood using mallets on his drums and cymbals, before Donin took up the theme himself in a remarkable solo of great virtuosity and immense power, which in turn laid the foundation for Ghosh’s contribution. Hair-raising yet deeply moving!
River Song, based on a folk-style used by Bengali fishermen, introduced a serenely contemplative atmosphere to the evening; the calm before the storm. Caliban’s Revenge, was written for Pete Postlethwaite and his role of Prospero in the 2007 production of The Tempest at Manchester Royal Exchange. It was described at the time as ‘ravishingly beautiful’ – a perfectly apt description for a truly thunderous conclusion to the first set.
Arun Ghosh is a wonderfully animated musician. Sitting cross-legged to the side of the stage, eyes closed, head swaying, he springs forward, stands bolt-upright on his toes and starts to weave his instrument in great circles as if he’s drawing in the music as much from the atmosphere around him as from his imagination. It’s a riveting spectacle, and uniquely effective way to lead the band. “I feel alive,” he declared at the close of The Gypsies of Rajasthan – as if there could be any doubt?
After The Monsoon, from Ghosh’s South Asian Suite, beautifully captured the cleansing effect of the monsoon and the welcome arrival of fresh, pure air. Longstone Lagoon was an equally vivid, though in this case colourfully riotous, evocation of a Manchester market set to the funky rock-beat of Rastko Rasic’s drums.
“What do you think?” Ghosh enquired, inviting comment from the audience. “Rubbish?”
Ghosh recalled a ‘Gig from Hell’ at a fashionable wine-bar in Canary Wharf, playing to a clientele more occupied in opening bottles of Dom Perignon 1981 than listening to the music. At the close of a particularly sensitive solo he was suddenly confronted by an inebriated yuppy who stood up and shouted, “Rubbish!!” “His timing was perfect,” Ghosh conceded.
A far cry from the Progress; Come Closer a beautiful love song was properly appreciated. No moronic behaviour here! Ghosh seemed lost in sound as he shaped his solo round the lower register of his instrument to great effect. At times his playing was classical in tone and manner; hardly surprising given his training at the Royal Northern College of Music and Cambridge, and study of Bach, Mozart and Brahms. But for the influence of the great Courtney Pine and the inspirational teaching of tenor saxophonist Mike Hall, Ghosh might have taken a different musical path, though it’s difficult to imagine how ‘serious’ music could ever have restrained the exuberance of his personality. Instead, to our great fortune, he followed his ‘rock ‘n’ roll’ spirit, fully affirmed in the final number Journey South another piece from the South Asian Suite, a depiction of travelling to Sri Lanka, which grew in intensity to a climatic maelstrom of sound. What a way to close a concert! Fantastic!
Arun Ghosh has found a new voice for the clarinet as a solo instrument. His music is urgent, alive, sometimes demanding, but incredibly exciting. In this he’s aided by his band members with whom he enjoys an almost telepathic understanding. With such an open attitude to music it will be fascinating to see where the musical journey next takes Arun Ghosh … very much a case of watch this space!
Once again the Progress provided the perfect balance of sound, lighting and warm hospitality to enjoy an evening of sensational and innovative music. Our thanks to all concerned and to the ‘Jazz in Reading’ team; demonstrating once more their commitment to bringing the ‘best in live modern jazz’ to the Progress stage.
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre: Friday 29 January 2016
Katya Gorrie vocals, Jonny Bruce trumpet, Mirek Salmon accordion, Andy Bowen guitar and Andy Crowdy bass.
Who could resist the beguiling charms of Katya Gorrie as she opened the doors to the ‘Moscow Drug Club’, located for one night only in the dark recesses of the Progress Theatre, Reading, and invited everyone ‘to come in and have a smoke’. ‘This is the place,’ she said, ‘where the Reds play the Blues.’
Katya’s rich vocal tones, impeccable timing and perfect diction held the audience captivated as she held centre-stage with a wonderful sense of Grand Guignol theatre, and led her band of troubadours, Jonny Bruce on trumpet, accordion player Merek Salmon, Andy Bowen on guitar and Andy Crowdy on bass, on a story-telling journey through song. She drew every last drop of meaning from the lyrics of each song, while a knowing wink or the slightest gesture of the hand, gave the merest hint that … sometimes they were not quite as they first appeared.
And what stories and what songs! Can you think of a better opening number to set the feet tapping and the hands clapping than the out-and-out Latin-American gaiety of the Henry Mancini/Johnny Mercer collaboration, It Had Better Be Tonight, with its insistent refrain Meglio stasera, baby, go, go, go. When I Get Low I Get High from the pen of the unlikely sounding, Marian Sunshine came next, before The Gypsy With Fire In Her Shoes served as a reminder that behind the persona of ‘Miss Peggy Lee’ lay a song-writing talent of rare and poignant beauty.
I remember Yes My Darling Daughter as a bright and breezy hit for Eydie Gormé in the early 1960s, but its innuendo escaped my early-teenage understanding in those far-off days. Katya’s witty delivery left me in no doubts as to what the song was really about!
Bei Mir Bist du Schon, a great hit for the Andrews Sisters and a flag-waver for many bands of the Swing Era, almost brought the roof down. Driven along at breakneck speed by the tremendous ‘Two Andy’s’ rhythm team, it featured a sensational trumpet solo from Jonny Bruce. He soared into the stratosphere with thrilling knife-edge accuracy. No wonder he is such a sought-after musician. His range is absolutely remarkable, swooping from muted ‘treading-on-egg-shells’ delicacy to the highest reaches of his instrument. The edgy excitement of his playing and rich vocabulary of perfectly placed vocalised effects brought a great sense of drama to the evening.
The accordion is a sadly neglected instrument, more often seen gathering dust on the shelves of a junk-shop, than gracing its rightful place as part of a band. Merek Salmon is a master of the instrument, providing the perfect background to the sardonic humour of Belgian songwriter Jaques Brel, in Funeral Tango. Jacky, a second Brel number, played later in the programme, featured the singing tones of Andy Crowdy’s bass in a wonderfully inventive solo.
Juan Tizol’s Caravan, with its curious mix of exoticism and straight-ahead swing, is rarely performed as a vocal. More’s the pity! Katya’s rendition brought the first set to a resounding close, and sent the audience scurrying to the bar, eager for refreshment to set them up for the second half.
Andy Crowdy’s rasping trombone echoed the vocal tones of the songwriter himself, as we entered the grotesque world of Tom Waits with the first number in the second set, Tango Til They’re Sore. By turns absolutely hilarious and as one commentator has observed, ‘awesomely gruesome’, the band revelled in the macabre sentiments of the song, creating a nightmarish cacophony of sounds with simple, but well-timed interjections from Katya’s vibraslap.
We were ‘treated’ to more samples of Wait’s dark humour later in the programme with Temptation, featuring one of many exquisite solos from Andy Bowen and A Jockey Full of Bourbon. Meanwhile an invitation to meet ‘Queenie the cutie of the burlesque show’ as she performed to Johnny Mercer’s Strip Polka came as a welcome relief. The band members were in full voice to support Katya’s vocal.
Leonard Cohen’s Dance Me To The End Of Love brought an instant gasp of recognition from the audience. Beautiful solos from Merek Salmon and Andy Bowen captured the haunting melancholy of the song. Jonny Bruce took another leap into the unknown with a hair-raising solo loaded with power and incredible emotional intensity.
Sadly the journey in song was drawing to a close, but not before we visited a gypsy campfire to savour Charles Aznavour’s Two Guitars, before taking off for the eastern Mediterranean and our final destination Istanbul (Not Constantinople), an irresistible tune that would have sent the audience happily on its way home but for one unresolved question; why the Moscow Drug Club?
Did Katya really meet up with her dissolute bunch of minstrels in rehab after suffering the effects of a night at ‘The Moscow Drug Club’ – a place where members ‘could have a smoke’, cock-a-snoop at authority and relax in the musical intimacy of its intoxicating atmosphere. Not quite. B.B. Gabor, an émigré Hungarian songwriter who settled in Canada, concocted the deliciously decadent lyrics in what would prove to be the encore number for the evening – what else but the Moscow Drug Club.
Temporary membership of ‘The Moscow Drug Club’ expired as the final notes of the tune faded away. ‘The Moscow Drug Club’ is sensational and one can only hope that membership may be renewed in the not too distant future. More used to playing large festival stages, with distant crowds, the band clearly enjoyed the convivial atmosphere of the ‘Progress’ and the closeness of the audience. As ever the magnificent ‘house team’ ensured the smooth-running of the event with a welcoming smile, excellent sound and lighting, and superb service at the bar and front of house. Surely, ‘Jazz at Progress’, now entering its fourth year, must rank as a sought-after gig for Britain’s top jazz talent? Let’s also raise a glass to Steve Wellings, founder and inspirational force behind ‘Jazz in Reading’ who celebrated his birthday at the gig. Good health Steve!
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Progress Theatre: Friday 18 December 2015
Andy Sheppard tenor saxophone, Matt Hopkins guitar, Percy Pursglove double bass and trumpet and Mark Whitlam drums
‘Jazz in Reading’ brought a memorable year of jazz at Progress Theatre to a conclusion with an absolute box of delights opened by Andy Sheppard’s Hotel Bristol.
Since taking up the tenor saxophone at the age of 19, Sheppard has worked as a sideman with Gil Evans, Carla Bley and George Russell, led his own groups and recorded to international acclaim. A prolific composer, with over 350 titles to his credit, his writing encompasses works for solo performance, big bands and chamber orchestras. ‘Hotel Bristol’, in which he is joined by guitarist Matt Hopkins, Percy Pursglove on bass and trumpet and drummer Mark Whitlam, was formed to take part in the 2014 Tbilisi International Jazz Festival in Georgia in an exchange programme with the International Jazz and Blues Festival of Sheppard’s home town, Bristol.
Sheppard distils a wide range of influences to create a unique and utterly beguiling approach to his music. Like a latter day Lester Young, beautiful melodic phrases cascade from his saxophone, each note perfectly placed, and expressed with the clarity of crystal. Playing ‘Forever and A Day’, at a whisper and the slowest tempo imaginable, he held the audience absolutely spellbound and yet moments earlier he had filled the auditorium with the huge sound of his tenor, and almost set everyone dancing to ‘Du Du’. Like most of the pieces it was deceptively simple, a repeated pattern that drew forth a multitude of variations as it passed between the musicians, growing in intensity all the while. Hopkins and Whitlam suddenly dropped out of the mêlée, and at this point the band launched what Sheppard describes as ‘our secret weapon’. Pursglove, embracing his bass with his left arm, picked up his trumpet with his right hand, and began a wonderfully free exchange with Sheppard. Later in the programme he delivered a sparse, but emotionally charged trumpet solo on ‘What Will Be’.
As well as being an adventurous and original player, Andy Sheppard has a rare gift for intriguing titles. ‘Walk in The Park’ was straightforward enough, though the tune cast the mind’s eye of this writer to a sun-kissed tropical beach swept by a warm breeze. The origins of ‘Rubbernecking Solid Jackson’ remain a mystery despite the visual clues provided by the musicians, who stopped playing at one point and stared around the stage. ‘Smut’ was drawn from an Alan Bennett book of the same name that helped Sheppard while away the travelling intervals involved in foreign tour, but ‘Going Spooning’? Perhaps it alluded to the additional services of ‘Hotel Bristol’?
Andy Sheppard’s playing combined with the ethereal quality of Matt Hopkins guitar, particularly evident on ‘Bart’ (the only non-Sheppard composition in the programme) and the constantly shifting drum patterns of Mark Whitlam, who draws every sound possible from the resources of his kit, give ‘Hotel Bristol’ a wonderful sense of space and freedom, with its foundations firmly rooted in the bass of Percy Pursglove. Eschewing the use of amplification, except for Hopkins guitar, the band achieved a perfect balance of sound. Each musician could be heard clearly, all the more to enjoy the subtle interplay that is such an important part of the music.
The ‘Jazz in Reading’ team are to be congratulated on succeeding to book Andy Sheppard’s Hotel Bristol at such notice in place of Stan Tracey’s ‘Under Milk Wood’ with Bobby Wellins, to whom we wish a speedy recovery from his current illness. This was music of world class and more than confirmed ‘J in R’s’ commitment to bringing the best in contemporary jazz to the Reading stage. As one member of the audience remarked as he left the Progress auditorium, ‘I felt as if I was floating. I could have listened to that music all night’. Hear! Hear!
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Gabriel Garrick trumpet | Nigel Price guitar | Terry Collie piano | Dave Jones bass | Paul Cavaciuti drums
Gabriel Garrick’s Expansions Quintet. What to expect? Gabriel Garrick; trumpeter, son of the late and much lamented Michael, played with Shake Keane as a child, with the ‘Cuban Missile’ Arturo Sandoval as a teenager and jammed with Wynton Marsalis’ Lincoln Centre Band as a fully fledged musician. I look to the empty stage for more clues as I take my seat in the tiny auditorium of Reading’s Progress Theatre, once aptly described by a visiting musician as ‘a bijou theatrerette’. Keyboard, bass and drums. A guitar! No saxophone in the front line. A flugel-horn at the ready at the foot of the microphone centre stage, but no trumpet. Interesting …
Jim Wade, MC for the evening appears. The audience eagerly accepts his invitation to greet the band with a roof-lifting that will top anything they might ever have enjoyed at Ronnie Scott’s and we look to the back of the stage for the band’s appearance. Nothing. Instead a door opens to the side of the auditorium and we pick up the beat of Paul Cavaciuti’s tambourine and the first glorious strains of ‘The Saints’ from Garrick’s trumpet. In true New Orleans fashion, he leads his musicians, Nigel Price, Terry Collie and Dave Jones, in a march to the stage; instruments are taken up, and with drums and bass laying down an infectious beat, they breath new life into the old favourite. This is going to be an evening of jazz like no other – full of surprises and sheer audacity!
Who would have thought that juxtaposing a familiar ramble down ‘Basin Street’ with the mystical qualities of ‘Amethyst’, from Michael Garrick’s ‘Gemstone Suite’, so contrasting in style and form, could ever work. And yet it did; perfectly, providing a natural lead into ‘Speak Low’, Kurt Weill’s achingly beautiful composition, beloved of 1950s hardboppers. The band remained in reflective mood for ‘Dreamland’, a lesser-known (at least by this writer) Henry Mancini composition with evocative lyrics by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans which put the leader’s vocal mettle to the test. Briefly ‘refreshed’ from the water bottle, he picked up a cowbell to unleash a ‘Blakeyesque’ orgy of rhythm and excitement, with each member of the band adding to the fun, before launching into an explosive original ‘Tell Me Something New’ to bring the first set to a close.
Nigel Price got the second set off to an hilarious start when he quipped, ‘I’ll ‘Take Five’!’ in instant response to Jim Wade’s announcement that tickets were selling out rapidly for the forthcoming concert by Darius Brubeck.
On a more sombre note, Garrick sadly informed us that Don Rendell, had passed away earlier in the week, aged eighty-nine. ‘Webster’s Mood’ (a Michael Garrick portrait of another tenor master), with Nigel Price being featured as once was Don, made a fitting and moving tribute to the great tenor saxophonist and pioneer of modern jazz in Britain.
Apart from the imaginative ebullience of Garrick’s leadership; he paces the stage good-humouredly, prompting with little trumpet interjections, or encouraging his colleagues with a nod of the head or sway of the shoulders, its strength as a group, in the true sense of the word, was amply demonstrated in another Garrick original, the intriguingly titled ‘Disinvited’. Wonderfully inventive solos from each member of the band, with challenging exchanges adding to the excitement of the piece, underpinned by Dave Jones’ beautiful bass lines and the driving, but never over-powering percussion of Paul Cavaciuti. What’s more, Nigel Price’s full bodied guitar gives the band the powerful feel of a much larger unit.
Terry Collie’s impeccable taste was never more in evidence than on ‘Swallows On The Water’, the third title from the pen of Michael Garrick and a homage to Joe Harriott, who used that phrase to describe how he felt on the occasion he played with Dizzy Gillespie.
Another pause for breathe, before Garrick took up the maracas to set up a funky-groove for ‘Walzkin’ with Jovis’ (Jovis being the name of both Garrick’s black labrador and the imprint of his record label). It would have made the perfect show-stopping conclusion to the gig, but there were more surprises to come. ‘Way Down Yonder In New Orleans ’, complete with vocal, provided a warm-hearted backward glance to the music’s origins. We moved forward to ‘Indiana’, before a touch of Charlie Parker’s ‘alchemy’ transformed this gently-paced standard into the blistering ‘Donna Lee’, with Garrick’s trumpet and the guitar of Nigel Price negotiating the unison passages magnificently.
‘I’m just getting warmed up,’ Garrick announced as he brought the gig to a close precisely at 10 o’clock. ‘’The body’s knackered, but the brain is coming alive… Can we play one more?’ he asked in deference to the neighbours who insist that the theatre closes on time. With permission duly granted, the band launched into Thelonius Monk’s ‘Rhythm-A-Ning’ to bring a memorable evening and joyous celebration of the ‘jazz tradition’ to an end.
‘I think they might have got something here,’ Jim Wade remarked in his closing words. How true! Brilliant musicianship, and a rich and varied programme, which set the audience buzzing with good spirit as it left the theatre; Gabriel Garrick’s Expansions Quintet is, as they used to say in the old days, ‘a band to watch for the future!’
Review posted here by kind permission of Trevor Bannister
Leon Greening piano | Adam King double bass | Steve Brown drums – this trio gave us a fantastic evening of pure joy as can be seen in the review below by Derek Ansell as published in the Newbury Weekly News:
Leon Greening is a very modest jazz pianist. He was full of praise for the great jazz soloists, the ones that inspired and influenced him originally, to seek a career in music but seemingly unaware of his own impressive talent.
Beginning with a Rogers and Hart melody, he explored it thoroughly before leaping into an exhaustive set of variations, aided and abetted by the sterling rhythm support of Adam King on bass and Steve Brown at the drums. King is a very young and exceptionally skilled bassist, his lines complex and technically difficult to execute but the way he played with his colleagues was full of soul and emotion; technical brilliance is of little use without those attributes. Steve Brown is a steady, unflashy but, again, technically well equipped drummer who also plays with lots of feeling.
The pianist paid tribute to his most admired soloists, giving top billing to Bud Powell and playing a very well structured, up tempo version of Un Poco Loco that even that master would surely have approved. He also played compositions associated with or arranged by Wynton Kelly, McCoy Tyner, Sergio Mendez and even local boy made good, the late Dudley Moore who, although an accomplished jazz and classical pianist seemed to reach the greatest heights as an actor and movie star!
The integration between the three musicians was certainly impressive as they swapped solo choruses and then came together towards the end of each selection. Another Brit jazz great, Victor Feldman was picked and some of his music played, again with wit, swing and reverence and the freshness of approach the pianist brought to this and other selections showed him to be a true original jazz voice. The other jazz master he paid tribute to was Bobby Timmons but the interpretation, albeit of an arrangement by his inspiration, came out as pure Greening. The audience responded with vigorous applause throughout and called long and vociferously, for an encore. It was delivered!