I recently went on an early morning jog in pursuit of my health. I had the streets and skies practically to myself. It’s gorgeous here in mid-October—that’s one of the benefits of living in Winnipeg.  At the end of my run, I chanced upon a guy, probably ten years older than me, riding a bike. He commented, “Well, you better enjoy this weather while you can ‘cause it’s gonna be gone real soon!”

I stopped for a second, then chimed back to him, “Last year the snow and cold didn’t kick in till the end of November, and it’s been kind of nice since the end of March. Last year was like this too.” I thought for a minute. In my first year here, I was thigh-deep in snow by Halloween, but for the past six years it’s been pretty nice.

“There’s been a change in the weather,” I said to the biker. “I guess global warming has been good to us!”

He leaned in to examine me with a perplexed stare as though I had inadvertently sprouted another head. Then he said, “Yup, better get your winter clothes because severe weather’s gonna be here in no time, you know.”

His small talk gives him away—clearly, he’s stubbornly reading an old script. Once upon a time, before the internet and jet planes, Winnipeg might have been considered a weird and isolated little city that just preferred to be left alone in ten months of winter. What I’ve seen is quite different. We get a nice spring, summer and fall. As I write this letter we’ve been without snow for over six months!

That habit of focusing on the negatives about this city and downplaying the positives gets in the way of really understanding and appreciating what’s here. From the inner city we’re always only 15 to 20 minutes away from fresh air and open sky. Within the city we have several thriving orchestras, a world-class ballet, great theatre. Our writer’s festival, folk festival and fringe festival rival those anywhere in the country. We’re about to have the Canadian Museum for Human Rights—what other city in North America has that type of leadership? We have excellent restaurants, parks and museums, and lots of discerning people who know how to appreciate them.

Then there’s our jazz scene. Right now it’s one of the fastest growing, most diversified and energetic cultures emerging today. In truth, jazz can only thrive in a diverse, tolerant and humane metropolis, which is exactly what Winnipeg has become over the years.

The guy on the bike is a perfect metaphor for what’s happening within Winnipeg. He’s still using an old almanac. He’s been on auto-pilot for so long that he can’t see that there’s been a change in the weather here. For me, Winnipeg has something quite special. I invite you to take time, take notice, see it, and celebrate it.

This year marks the inception of Tarbut: Festival of Jewish Culture, a week of concerts, lectures, and films at the Rady Jewish Community Centre that runs from November 13 through 21. Two of the concerts will be of particular interest to jazz lovers.

The first is the headliner concert, “The 3 Cohens,” featuring siblings Avishai on trumpet, Anat on tenor sax and clarinet, and Yuval on soprano sax. I first encountered the Cohens through Avishai. As a trumpet player myself, I was naturally drawn to him when he came to do an Asper series concert in 2007. I immediately fell in love with his musical concept and approach. I later found out he had two siblings, Anat and Yuval, with whom he had a group called The 3 Cohens.

All three Cohens attended the same schools in Tel-Aviv and later each one also attended Berklee College of Music in Boston. Their musical influences are very broad. They were all accomplished classical musicians, playing in the youth symphonic orchestra in Tel-Aviv, but it was not long before they discovered their life-long love for jazz. All three have now been on the New York jazz scene for nearly a decade, establishing themselves as musicians and bandleaders in their own rights.

Together, The 3 Cohens have released two recordings: ONE (2003) and Braid (2007). All but one track on Braid are originals by each of the siblings, and together they show the breadth of their musical influences. Many of the tunes have a classical tinge to them, and often you can hear the rich musical history of the Middle East. The recording showcases the siblings’ ability to communicate on an almost uncanny level, seamlessly intertwining solo and accompaniment, and finishing each other’s sentences as they weave their individual voices into one.

The 3 Cohens will be playing two concerts to close out the festival, and will be joined by Will Bonness on the piano, Steve Kirby on the bass, and Quincy Davis on drums.

The second not-to-be-missed concert, “Anna-Lisa Kirby Sings Leonard Cohen,” takes place earlier that week. Anna-Lisa cut her teeth as a singer in the 1990s in jazz clubs in New York and has performed across Canada and in Europe. Since 2003, she has been performing and teaching in Winnipeg where she is a frequent featured artist with the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra, the Winnipeg Jazz Orchestra, the Oceanic Jazz Orchestra, and the U of M Jazz Studies faculty.

Over the past couple of years, Anna-Lisa has been bringing crowds to their feet with her powerful performances of “Hallelujah” and “Bird on a Wire,” two of Leonard Cohen’s signature songs. For this concert, she has the chance to explore more of the poet-songwriter’s repertoire. Expect to hear fresh approaches to “Famous Blue Raincoat” and “Suzanne,” among others.

Anna-Lisa has the voice and dramatic intensity to carry Cohen’s brooding lyrics, and the simplicity of these songs offer ample room to showcase the artistry of her band: Steve Kirby on bass, Jimmy Greene on saxophone, Will Bonness on piano, Larry Roy on guitar, and Quincy Davis on drums.

The Tarbut festival also includes a classical concert, a Jewish comedian, a tribute to Mordecai Richler, and the release of Voices of Winnipeg Holocaust Survivors. Check radyjcc.com for more information.

The next concert in the Izzy Asper Jazz Performances series is “A New Orleans Celebration,” with one of the sharpest bands we’ve ever put on that stage: trombonist/singer Wycliffe Gordon will be joined by Peter Martin at the keyboard, Jumaane Smith on trumpet, and Quincy Davis on drums. I’ll be holding down the bass chair.

Wycliffe Gordon was one of the first people to clinic in the new jazz program almost seven years ago, and he’s been through Winnipeg a few times since. He’s a huge talent, and he made an impact on everybody—you can still feel the excitement when you just mention his name.

Wycliffe was Wynton Marsalis’s top-choice trombonist from the mid-80s through the 90s, at which point he branched out on his own. He has incredible chops, incredible lyricism. He plays the trombone with the effortlessness of a flutist, but with all the grit and huskiness you’d expect from a traditional New Orleans tailgate party. He can sing too, like an angel, but with a whole lot of attitude. He’s one of the foremost authorities today on the New Orleans style, but even if he never said a word, his music stands as a perfect example of the second-line sound.

If you’ve seen Wycliffe on a stage and heard him play, I don’t have to tell you that there’s always a lot of wit and playfulness in his music. Even when he’s a sideman, the force of his personality shapes the band. He’s always a lot of fun.

I’ve known pianist Peter Martin since he was a pup—he grew up in St Louis, same as I did, just a lot of years later. As the son of a symphony orchestra violinist, he was always steeped in music and understood the necessary discipline. He was another of Wynton Marsalis’ finds. Even before he established Jazz at Lincoln Center, Wynton used to barnstorm the country seeking out young talent. Martin was one of the first of a string of young players he discovered and brought to New York. A few years back, Martin moved to New Orleans where he hooked up with Joshua Redman and Dianne Reeves, among others. Now he’s Reeves’ first-call pianist.

Peter Martin can play the blues like it’s supposed to be played, and he can handle that delta rhythm sound like he was born for it. He’s also a big wit—and a bit of a prankster, like Wycliffe. I look forward to playing with him again, and to hear what kind of wisdom he has to offer young musicians at the Masters of Jazz Masterclass.

Rounding out the band is Jumaane Smith, a young trumpet player who grew up in Seattle and has since performed and toured in some of the most respected jazz venues and festivals in the US and around the world. He’s got a great big sound with lots of edge, and you can hear that he feels way back to the roots of this art form. He’s going to be a great addition to a program of New Orleans music—he can tear it up!

Drummer Quincy Davis, the newest faculty member in our Jazz Studies program, is already one of my favourite people to play with. He’s like a quiet riot. That’s a perfect match for someone as rowdy as Wycliffe. His crisp, stylish drumming will help to push this party right through the roof!

New Orleans is the birthplace of jazz, and those early musicians knew how to put their various voices together and make music that transcended prejudice and make everyone want to celebrate. It still works that way—this is a concert not to be missed!

Joe Locke is one of the busiest vibraphonists on the scene today. I’ve known Locke since I moved to New York in the 90s, and he has been a good friend. I’ve been lucky to share the stage with him a few times. He is truly a dynamic performer—nobody has more chops or energy on the vibes, and Locke’s depth of musical knowledge is really staggering. My personal favourite albums of Locke’s include Live In Seattle (featuring pianist Geoffrey Keezer and drummer Terreon Gully, both of whom will be on the Asper stage) and Moment to Moment, which features the music of Henry Mancini. But he has many more—at least twenty CDs as a leader. Whether it be fusion, ballads, straight-ahead bebop, Latin, or movie themes, Locke can do it all. As well as Keezer and Gully, he’ll be joined here by singer Kenny Washington, with Steve Kirby holding down the bass. Do not miss the opportunity to see his band when they come to Winnipeg! – George Colligan

Joe Locke was nice enough to answer some of my questions…

Why the vibes?

When I was a kid I played drums and piano. I didn’t really want to become a pianist, with all the work that entailed, but I liked the idea of playing melodies. So when I discovered the vibes, it was the right fit for me—a percussion instrument I could play melodically.

What have been your favourite gigs?

There have been so many. Of course my twelve years in Eddie Henderson’s band was important to me. I have good memories of you and I playing together in that quintet! I also had some wonderful experiences working with Kenny Barron, George Cables, Walter Davis, Jr., Bob Moses, Cecil Taylor and John Hicks in their groups. I’m happy to say that some of my favorite gigs have been in recent years with different projects of my own.  My Four Walls of Freedom quartet with Bob Berg was very special to me.  My Force of Four quartet  and the chamber trio Storms/Nocturnes (with Geoffrey Keezer and Tim Garland) continue to inspire and challenge me in the best possible way.

Describe the trials and tribulations of being a bandleader in the new millennium.

For me, one of the difficult things is synchronizing the schedules of the busy musicians with whom I’m working. Making tour dates line up in a logical is always challenging. Considering the current economic climate in the world and the fact that live music seems to have less importance in the current culture, I consider myself very fortunate to be as busy as I am, engaged in creative work with great collaborators. The music business has always been tough. But I think the music itself is in great hands in the new millennium, with wonderful musicians coming along every day who are breaking new ground and giving a lot of beauty to the world.

What advice would you give a young musician?

Practice! If you really want to make music your life, put the work in now—it pays off later. The amount of knowledge you acquire and how much work you put in will serve you well when you try to break into the larger music scene. Once you feel ready, move to a place with an active music scene and put yourself in as many playing situations as possible.

How did you pick your current band?

My latest recording, For the Love of You, features vocalist Kenny Washington—we will be playing music from the new CD in Winnipeg. I was on vacation in San Francisco  a few years ago and heard Kenny sing for the first time. He blew me away! I think he is one of the greatest male vocalists to come along in quite some time. He has a beautiful voice, exquisite taste and a whole lot of soul. The pianist in the group is Geoffrey Keezer, with whom I’ve collaborated many times. Geoffrey started playing with Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers when he was 17 years old, and has gone on to do some amazing things as a player, composer and band leader. The drummer will be the fantastic Terreon Gully, a musician who has already made an impact in Winnipeg. And I’m really looking forward to playing with bassist Steve Kirby for the first time. This is going to be a really fun concert!

When Karl Kohut was twelve, he started playing his sister’s electric bass. He’d already been studying piano for years, so he learned quickly. In high school, he picked up the double-bass, and at 20, he was named the Grand Prize Winner at the Canadian Youth Talent Competition for his solo rendition of Victor Wooten’s “A Show of Hands.” Even before completing his Master’s degree at the University of Manitoba this summer, he’d established a busy musical life here in Winnipeg. When he’s not offering lessons and clinics, you can find him doing cutting-edge small ensemble work, holding down Ron Paley’s Big Band, or heating things up with various R&B and funk bands. There’s lots about Karl at www.myspace.com/karlkohutmusic, but I tracked him down by email.. – Charlene Diehl

Tell me about life after university.

My life hasn’t changed too much since I finished my degree, except that I have more time to practice now! If my plans come together, I will be going to New York next year for a few months to study and experience the music scene. NYC is full of amazing musicians that I dream of playing with—that’s incredibly motivating!

Besides bass, I’m also practicing a lot on the vibraphone and piano. I played classical percussion throughout junior high and high school, so playing jazz on the vibes feels pretty natural already, even though I haven’t been doing it for very long. On piano, I am working on classical music in addition to jazz—J.S. Bach’s two- and three-part inventions right now.

You play in many different kinds of ensembles. Do you have favourites?

I like them all, but for different reasons. Small jazz ensembles offer the greatest potential for interactivity and dialogue, because each player is very exposed. With big band music, I feel like I have a huge responsibility because so many musicians are relying on me to provide them with clear direction in regard to the rhythm and harmony. I also love playing R&B, soul and funk music because those bass lines are so hypnotic and danceable! I love it when I get to turn up and the people on the dance floor can feel the bass as well as hear it—in those styles of music, the bass is what makes people want to move.

What’s on your iPod at the moment?

Since the beginning of September, I’ve only been listening to one album: the first disc from At the Blue Note: The Complete Recordings by the Keith Jarrett Trio. Keith is incredibly conscious of the rhythmic placement and dynamic shading of every note, which makes even the simplest phrase profound in its delivery. Bassist Gary Peacock has an infectious bounce and lightness in his playing, and drummer Jack DeJohnette is a masterful accompanist who always serves the needs of the music. The last non-jazz album I listened to was Airtight’s Revenge by Bilal. He’s a neo-soul singer from NYC that frequently collaborates with jazz artists—he’s on both Robert Glasper and Terrence Blanchard’s latest albums.

What’s the most exciting thing you’ve learned studying jazz?

That’s a hard question to answer, because I’m constantly learning new things. I feel like I’m just starting a lifelong journey of discovery through music and I’m simply excited to see where it will take me.

In the past, it was considered almost blasphemy in the jazz community to intellectualize the quality we call “swing.” Those on the inside would say, “If you gotta ask, you’ll never know.” Now that jazz education has entered universities, there are books about swing, and teachers who’ve developed strategies to help students get a feel for it.

Swing is actually the name given to dance music that arose in the late 1920s and flourished into the 40s. It depends on a triplet subdivision, a characteristic with roots in the music of the Yoruba tribe in West Africa, and which continues to thrive in Afro-Cuban music today.

Swing music is arguably a second evolution of jazz music, and the background is fascinating. Traditional jazz came predominantly from New Orleans, and was championed by such musicians as Louis Armstrong, Kid Ory, Lil Harding, and Sidney Bechet. It emerged as a combination of ragtime and blues, with many other influences. Ragtime, known for its “ragged” rhythms, fast tempos and syncopated melodies, caused dancers to move frantically to keep up. Blues was another thing altogether. Slow and deliberately sexual, it depended on notes that were found between the cracks of the piano keys. Blending the two forms was extremely exotic to the mainstream white listeners of the time—exotic and treacherous!

This highly emotional music was emerging in a period of alcohol prohibition which drove people into speakeasies or illegal clubs. New York City alone had over 5,400 speakeasies during the Prohibition era. Since each speakeasy needed a jazz band, tens of thousands of jazz musicians worked every night in the major cities back then.

After Prohibition ended, mainstream society wanted to continue their relationship with Africanized music, or “jazz” as it was then called, but the dancing in the speakeasies was much too wild and sexual for public consumption. Hotel owners and club managers began hiring jazz orchestras that were much more sweet in their nature. The new bands had lush harmonies and smooth, lilting melodies, and solos were planned and timed. The dancing they encouraged was much more calm and elegant.

Successful early swing bands were led by musicians like Duke Ellington, Don Redmond, Fletcher Henderson, Chick Webb, Frankie Trumbauer, and Paul Whiteman, who is famous for his vow to “make a lady out of jazz.” Later, swing bands were epitomized by Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Jimmie Lunceford, Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw, Tommy Dorsey and Glenn Miller.

The rhythm of swing bands is characterized by what’s known as “rhythmic netting.” The base layer is a smooth four-beat quarter note pattern. The next layer subdivides that pulse into eighth-note triplets, with a slight emphasis on the third beat of the triplet. The band creates a heavy pulse on the first and third beats of the measure, which invites the listeners to respond by shifting their bodies on the second and fourth. If you feel compelled to move on beats two and four, you’re more than likely “swinging”!

In 1995, the Cuban-born pianist Gonzalo Rubalcaba was booked for a week at Yoshi’s Nitespot in Oakland, California when the U.S. State Department refused to grant visas to his drummer and bassist. It just so happened that saxophonist Joe Lovano was trying to book the club for the same week. The club’s owner arranged for the two leaders to play the gig as a duo, and that lucky accident led to their wonderful studio recording, Flying Colors.

Even if the two musicians are from different countries and generations, they have very similar backgrounds. Both were born into musical families: Gonzalo’s father was a pianist and his two brothers musicians, and Lovano’s father was the Cleveland saxophone legend Tony “Big T” Lovano. Both are heavily steeped in the jazz tradition. Both have an affinity for the drums, and both are constantly searching for new sounds. Their compatibility has allowed them to create an album filled with musical chemistry, boundless creativity and sonic magic. Lovano says, “The whole process was comfortable and free. It was one of the most creative sessions I’ve ever been a part of.”

Flying Colors lives up to its title: it’s an array of vivid pigments splashed on canvas by this stunning duo. Whether it is Scott Lefaro’s “Gloria’s Step” or the free improvisations of “Mr. Hyde,” this album is dedicated to the search for rhythmic interplay in the absence of an explicit pulse. Silence is a crucial element in this album too, surrounding haunting unisons (such as in Ornette Coleman’s “Bird Food”), extended solos, and shifts in song structure. It seems more to me that the two musicians are challenging the need for structure, pulse, harmony, and melody, and inventing each piece from the ground up.

This strategy means that each selection becomes unique and atmospheric. In Paul Motian’s “Phantasm,” the improvisatory interaction sounds like a contemporary classical piece. Lovano creates some great, haunting melodies on the alto clarinet before Rubalcaba assumes the lead, while Lovano supports him with brushwork on drums. As a listener, you’re mesmerized.

Lovano and Rubalcaba seem to be proving that jazz is at its foundation a rhythmical language, and that whether the song be structured or free, unison or counterpoint, consonant or dissonant, two musicians can communicate with each other to create something transcendental: spontaneous art. As Lovano says, “The music poured out of us as though we were one… [It] just unfolded into a most beautiful tapestry of color.”

A lot has happened in the thirteen-odd years since the release of Flying Colors. Joe Lovano continues to sit atop of the jazz world, spearheading thrilling collaborations and experimenting with formats (like his double-drummer quintet). Gonzalo Rubalcaba has gone on to collaborate with Dave Holland, Chris Potter, Chick Corea and many others. Lovano has dazzled Winnipeg audiences, but Rubalcaba has yet to perform here. I, for one, would be thrilled to hear this outstanding pianist in person!

The piano has played a pivotal role in the development of jazz, and pianists have created many of the genre’s major innovations. Keith Jarrett is one such player. He started playing at age three and studied the classical repertoire until his late teens, when he turned to jazz. He started out playing bebop, first with the Charles Lloyd Quartet, and in 1970-71, he played electric piano with Miles Davis. He then formed a trio with Charlie Haden and Paul Motian, which became a quartet in 1972, when tenor saxophonist Dewey Redman joined. The group disbanded in 1976. From then until 1983, he played only solo and only acoustic. Today, he suffers from chronic fatigue syndrome and rarely performs.

Jarrett is a giant of what is called post-bop and a musical genius who takes substantial risks. Many of his most celebrated recordings are his solo piano efforts, where he has played without the safety net of sidemen. Don Heckman, the jazz critic for the Los Angeles Times, put is aptly when he wrote, “Keith Jarrett’s piano playing is based upon one fundamental tenet: no fear.”

The no-fear factor played a role in The Köln Concert [ECM #1064], the most celebrated of all the recordings Keith Jarrett has made. The night before the concert, Jarrett played in Lausanne then found that he couldn’t sleep. Despite his weariness, early the next morning he made the long drive to Köln.

When Jarrett arrived at his hotel he was exhausted. He checked in but still couldn’t sleep. He went to the sound check, only to find an inadequate piano and, to make matters worse, there was not enough time to replace it with one that met Jarrett’s specifications. He returned to his hotel to relax, but still couldn’t fall asleep. Jarrett and his producer from the ECM label, Manfred Eicher, with whom he was travelling, went to an Italian restaurant for dinner. Jarrett started sweating profusely from the excessive heat in the crowded restaurant. The service was extremely slow and their meal arrived just fifteen minutes before Jarrett had to be at the venue.

Given the day’s events, Jarrett and Eicher wondered if it was pointless to record the concert that night. But, with such short notice, they’d still have to pay for the engineer and gear, so they decided to proceed with the recording. They figured that at least they would have a document of the event to analyze.

As Jarrett slowly walked out on stage that night he started to fall asleep, but the moment he sat down at the piano his fatigue disappeared. He played one extended improvised song that he composed on the spot.

As Jarrett and Eicher finished the remainder of the tour, they listened to the cassette in the car. They had some reservations about the quality of the recording, but they both recognized that Jarrett’s playing was inspired. The music he made that night is one of the great pleasures of jazz. It covered a wide range of emotion: sometimes sombre and meditative, sometimes frantic, and always elegant. He did a masterful job of adapting to the piano’s limitations and played with warmth and friendliness. You can hear him coming up with ideas, marking time until inspiration hits. His performance took piano improvisation to new heights.

The Köln Concert, which has sold more than three million copies since its release, is one of the best-selling jazz albums of all time.

© Ross Porter (2006)

I’ve been thinking about history lately. It started with a rousing conversation with my son as he worked out three reasons why history is never completed, a school assignment that certainly eclipses anything I did in history class. His ideas ghosted me when I was reading through the heated conversation about Ken Burns’ Jazz series on George Colligan’s blog. Also in a wonderful radio interview with the writer Joseph Boyden about his new biography of Louis Riel and Gabriel Dumont.

History, my son suggests, is as much about story as it is about facts. Though the history teachers in my childhood would have disputed that, I think he’s onto something. History allows us to look back with the full privilege of hindsight, and we tell a story that gives significance to certain moments and connects them into a narrative. Depending on the person doing the looking, and the details that have been held in collective memory, those narratives can be wildly divergent. The blog chatter about Ken Burns bears that out!

Joseph Boyden laughs about his naivete at the beginning of the Riel-Dumont project. Fresh off his wildly successful novel, Three Day Road, he was eager to write about figures who had such an impact on both Canada and the Métis people. After several years of muscling a tangle of personality and circumstance into a mere two hundred pages of prose, Boyden has a deeper understanding of these men and their legacy, but also of the demands history places on the imagination.

Boyden’s book is part of Penguin’s Extraordinary Canadians series. John Ralston Saul, the general editor of the series and one of this country’s intellectual heavyweights, points out that almost all of the twenty biographies have been written by novelists rather than historians. That was an intentional decision, he says, because novelists “tell the truth.”

It’s an intriguing claim. For a long time, we’ve been taught that fiction writers make things up—what they do is a long way from history. By choosing novelists, Ralston Saul is implying that history should be entrusted to people who have a talent for creating and developing character, and for exploring the range of human motivation, from the most lofty to the most debased. History rests on story, and storytellers are reaching for the deepest levels of truth.

Ralston Saul observes that contemporary culture is obsessed with celebrity, when really it is character which holds our attention. His series is interested in extraordinary Canadians, he points out, not famous ones. I like that distinction. Because celebrity traffics in the surface of people’s lives, it is insubstantial and ephemeral, even when it feels intense. Character, on the other hand, is at the core of us. It allows us to empathize with one another, even across huge gaps of time or experience or values.

When we have a chance to encounter a figure as complex and enigmatic as Riel, we’re also reminded that human nature is never fully comprehensible—not even from the inside.