Winnipeg’s music lovers are getting excited. On March 20, the Winnipeg Jazz Orchestra welcomes one of brightest luminaries of our time, bassist Rufus Reid. For more than 35 years, this powerhouse artist has been injecting life into all aspects of the music scene, his creativity extending beyond all labels and boundaries. He teams up with pianist George Colligan for a show called “Bass-ically New York.”

As a performer, Rufus Reid is firmly established in the pantheon of Jazz Bass Greats. He started off on trumpet, and developed an unshakable passion for the double bass while serving as a musician in the US Air Force. Rufus’ career as a professional bassist took flight during his time in Chicago, where he was a member of the Eddie Harris Quintet—to this day, Reid credits Eddie’s influence, guidance, and musicianship as laying a deep foundation for his music. Later moving to New York, Rufus traveled and performed with an astounding number of jazz greats, including Gene Ammons, Sonny Stitt, Philly Joe Jones, Thad Jones, Dexter Gordon, Bill Evans, Stan Getz, Dizzy Gillespie, Bobby Hutcherson and Art Farmer—and that’s just to name a few!

As a recording artist, Rufus’s career continues to grow in a prolific and diverse body of work. His discography (check out rufusreid.com)

is truly stunning. As a sideman, Reid has recorded extensively with JJ Johnson, Thad Jones and Mel Lewis, Kenny Burrell, Art Farmer, Freddie Hubbard, Dexter Gordon, and of course Eddie Harris. He also fostered a rich musical partnership with drummer Akira Tana, creating the TanaReid quintet. Always exploring new territory, Rufus is also a leading pioneer in bass duo records, collaborating with fellow bassists Michael Moore and Peter Ind. Rufus also has six albums as leader, ranging from trios to quintets. His most recent recording, Out Front, features Steve Allee on piano and Duduka Da Fonseca on drums.

As an educator and author, Rufus is dedicated to sharing his wealth of knowledge and experience. For 20 years he was director of Jazz Studies and Performance at William Paterson University in Wayne, NJ. He continues to be involved with the Jamey Aebersold Summer Jazz Camps, the Stanford Jazz Workshops, and the Richard Davis Foundation for Young Bassists among others. In 1974 he published his method book, The Evolving Bassist, which continues to be studied and treasured by bassists around the globe.

Most recently, Reid’s unstoppable musical creativity has led him to focus on composition. His writing for string orchestras, jazz ensembles, and double bass ensembles has garnered him many awards and further commissions.

Perhaps most inspiring of all is Reid’s philosophy of curiosity and exploration—his website posts glow with tangible excitement as he discusses recent workshops, compositions and the music world in general. From recordings to concert tours to offering workshops, Reid’s wellspring of creativity shows no signs of slowing down. And this is very exciting news for musicians and music lovers everywhere.

On April 10, the Izzy Asper Jazz Performances series ends its tenth year celebrations with the return of Montreal pianist Oliver Jones. He teams up with tenor saxophonist Harry Allen for a concert of Gershwin music. Expect some magic!

As Winnipeg audiences well know, Oliver Jones is a very bluesy, soulful musician. I think of him as the quintessential Hard Bop piano player—you’re going to hear a heavy influence of the blues, a little bit of gospel, a little bit of bebop, and some R&B flair. For those of us who dearly miss Oscar Peterson, you can find respite in Oliver Jones’ sound.

Oliver Jones famously retired from playing in 2000—but it didn’t really stick. He was lured back to the keyboard to finish Then and Now, a recording with bassist Skip Bey that he had begun a few years earlier, and he hasn’t looked back. He’s recorded four more since then, including Pleased to Meet You, a 2009 piano duo album with the wonderful late Hank Jones.

Jones has shared his musicality and generosity of spirit with us before, but this will be a first visit from Harry Allen, and I just know the audiences here will love him too.

When Harry Allen plays his tenor saxophone, you remember all that was good about Stan Getz. There’s that warm, full tone, and his improvisational style is like poetry. Listening to Harry Allen is like watching something very beautiful pass by very slowly.

Harry Allen is one of the last of the Mohicans. Nowadays, many saxophonists are chasing the myth of Coltrane, and hoping to make a mark somewhere alongside the likes of Wayne Shorter and Kenny Garret through velocity and technique. Harry Allen is not that musician. He certainly can play all the pyrotechnics, but he prefers to tell a beautiful story. If a gentleman is a person who has tons of technique and chooses not to use it all the time, Allen is the consummate gentleman.

Allen was born in Washington in 1966, and grew up on both the west and east coasts. Now he lives in New York City. He has played with more people than you can name—Rosemary Clooney, Ray Brown, Hank Jones, Kenny Burrell, John Pizzarelli, Kenny Barron—and has over twenty recordings to his name, including Tenors Anyone? and Eu Nao Quero Dancar (I Won’t Dance).

This concert has it all. Gershwin is gorgeous, and our guest artists have the eloquence to make it live. I get to hold down the rhythm section with my new favorite drummer, Quincy Davis. It can’t get much better than this!

A year ago, bookstore owner Kelly Hughes didn’t know much about jazz. Now the performance space upstairs at Aqua Books is one of the busiest jazz venues in the city, and George Colligan is shaking things up as the store’s first Songwriter-in-Residence.

For those of you who haven’t visited Aqua Books yet, it’s a cheeky update to the dusty old second-hand bookshop. As well as thousands of titles, you’ll find quirky fridge magnets and tshirts, and the occasional piece of vintage furniture. The main floor is also home to EAT! Bistro, featuring the inspired (and affordable) food stylings of Kelly’s wife, Chef Candace. Up the stairs are Aqua’s gathering spaces: a small room for groups of a couple of dozen people, a big “angel room” with surprisingly good acoustics, and several studio spaces for Aqua’s various artists-in-residence.

Aqua Books identifies itself as one of the busiest performance spaces in western Canada, and the stream of readings, concerts, lectures, discussions, films, plays, and special events at aquabooks.ca bears out that claim. Many of those performances feature jazz, and the laid-back atmosphere is a good fit for both musicians and audiences.

The March-April jazz line-up includes one more outing in the “feat.” series. On April 9, the Curtis Nowosad Trio teams up with Michael Petkau Falk, the indie/folk musician who is the guiding light these days at West End Cultural Centre. Aqua is also introducing a new series, Mondo!Musica, showcasing jazz with a world flavour. First outings include the Marco Castillo Trio (March 5), Richard Moody and Amir Amiri (April 19), and the Oceanic Ensemble with Steve Kirby and Sassan Mirkhani (April 28).

George Colligan has been busily creating songs and hooking up singers since the start of February. He holds down the keyboard for another showcase of new songs on March 12 with the second installment of “Two Hands, Ten Voices.” It’s a great opportunity to hear George’s compositional creativity and the vocal stylings of several of the city’s fine jazz singers. George is offering a songwriting workshop on March 5; check the Aqua Books website to find out how to take advantage of George’s mentoring talent.

Also on the roster in March and April are concerts by the George Colligan Trio, the Bert Johnson Trio, the Paul Balcain Trio, and the Helen White Quartet. Rounding out the list are a couple of recitals by senior Jazz Studies students and an evening featuring student ensembles from the U of M, as well as a lecture by Owen Clarke about the history of the blues here in Winnipeg.

It’s worth noting that Kelly Hughes is always on the go, so quite possibly another event or two with a jazz twist will take shape. The Aqua Books website, aquabooks.ca, is the go-to place for all the details.

A bookstore makes an unconventional club, but Winnipeg audiences aren’t married to convention. A lot of people have already discovered that a meal at EAT! Bistro followed by concert up in the angel room makes for a perfect evening. You might want to join that club…

The first time I met Paul Balcain, he was wielding a saxophone. The next time I met him, he was wielding a paint roller. When I track him down for this interview, I ask him about it. “I grew up in the construction business,” he says. “The harder I tried to escape it, the more it sucked me in.” He pauses. “Just like music,” he adds, and laughter bursts out of him. That’s Paul. His wit comes out of left field, quick and quirky. I suspect he’s pulled some inspired pranks.

Paul is a serious saxophonist without being too serious. He has a warm sound, and it’s clear that he loves to play. He’s at home across many styles, from Scott Nolan’s roots band to the Winnipeg Jazz Orchestra. On Wednesdays, he’s often at The Hang, sharing tunes and stories, and these days he’s gigging with his new quartet.

When did you start playing the saxophone? What drew you to it?

I started playing saxophone in junior high. That was 153 pounds ago for me, and back then I had a chin and a slapshot—if I had chosen the clarinet, the team would have made me buy a matching dress. But I suppose there might be something in my blood: my grandfather wanted to play saxophone too, but his mother always took it back to the music store!

Who do you consider your most important influences?

The list is long. Off the top, I’d name some of the great saxophonists: Sonny Rollins, Warne Marsh, Lee Konitz. Then I’d add Chet Baker, BB King, Bob Brookmeyer, Van Morrison, Eric Clapton, and Bill Evans.

What’s on your ipod?

Right now? Glenn Patscha—he’s a long ways from jazz, but he’s really great songwriter. Chopin—I have “Nocturne in C# minor” on repeat, because it’s so gorgeous. Grant Stewart—he gets compared to Sonny Rollins, the way Sonny got compared to Coleman Hawkins; when he solos, he’s got a point, he’s got a purpose. Greazy Meal—these guys were a 9-piece band from Minneapolis, very soul-driven; I always loved everything they did. Jimmy Greene—no really, I was into Jimmy way back; him coming here is what I call “%*&# luck”! When I heard the news, I felt the same joy as when I found out Bob Brookmeyer was coming to Brandon. Excitement, interest—the whole bit.

What jazz projects do you have on tap?

I’ve put together a quartet with Aaron Shorr, Julian Bradford, and Curtis Nowosad. I seem to be in a Duke Ellington phase right now. We’re doing some Kenny Wheeler tunes because they’re fun and challenging. And some later Brookmeyer small-group stuff—he’s a fantastic writer but not many people play his stuff. I’m writing for a CD, and I’m beginning to work with some vocalists too.

What do you do when you’re not playing sax?

I spend a lot of time doing woodworking and refinishing—it’s relaxing, it’s fun. (I’d say I get high off the varnish but this is a family magazine.) And time with my family is really important. I have a 7-year-old son. He’s autistic, and a fantastic kid—really, we’re so lucky in so many ways. Some days I forget he’s my son because he’s so much fun to hang out with! For the first few years of his life, I was out working a day job, pushing gigs in the evening, whatever. Now I stay home as much as I can because I choose to. Our second baby debuts in August. It’s been one helluva ride, but if I had the chance to do this all over again, I’d do it verbatim. It’s unreal!

Stan Getz coaxed the most sorrowful, sentimental sounds from his tenor saxophone. As jazz critic Whitney Balliett once said, he had “a lovely tone, the kind of tone one would want to go home to.”

No doubt about it, Getz was a troubled individual. At seventeen, he was already an alcoholic and, not long afterward, became addicted to heroin. He did not stop using until he was sixty and attempted suicide several times over the course of his life. His mood fluctuation was cause for concern for many and was the impetus for Zoot Sims’ description of his friend: “Yeah, Stan’s a nice bunch of guys.”

Getz started playing professionally in New York City when he was fifteen. Just one year later, he was playing with grown men in Jack Teagarden’s group. He then had steady employment in the big bands of Stan Kenton, Jimmy Dorsey, and Benny Goodman. It was while he was with Woody Herman that he and the other saxophonists in the band, Serge Chaloff, Zoot Sims, and Al Cohn, were nicknamed the Four Brothers. Getz’s resplendent sound made him the most popular of the four, and he soon struck out on his own.

Getz’s supreme accomplishment is the masterpiece Getz/Gilberto with Antonio Carlos Jobim [Verve #3145214142]. Originally released in March 1964, this partnership between Getz and guitarist João Gilberto is one of the few jazz albums to reach number one on the pop charts. It spent almost two years there and won four Grammy Awards. Several of the songs, including “Desafinado, “Corcovado,” and “Girl from Ipanema,” have become jazz standards. Their familiarity inspires both love and hatred amongst jazz fans.

Getz/Gilberto is one of those rare albums of musical magic that is bewildering to listen to. Several elements combine to bewitch the listener: Getz’s genius for playing the shapely, imaginative melodies composed by the father of the bossa nova, Antonio Carlos Jobim (who also played piano on the session); João Gilberto’s exotic guitar playing and his bittersweet Portuguese vocals; and Gilberto’s wife Astrud’s detached, icy reading of “The Girl form Ipanema” and “Corcovado,” which still seduces. Astrud’s singing is made even more charming because her presence on the hit record was a fluke. Stan asked her to sing at a rehearsal because she was the only Brazilian he knew who could speak English. Her performance was so sensual Getz asked her, over protests from Antonio and João that she wasn’t a professional singer, to sing on the album. It was a smart move because her English interpretation of the Portuguese lyrics helped make the songs accessible for a North American audience

Start with three drum kits at the front of the music room. Put a twelve- or thirteen-year-old kid at each kit. You’ll have more than a dozen wannabe drummers left over. Give them sticks so they can keep time on a desktop.

Add four young upright bass players, and a couple on electric basses. There’s one piano and about seven kids who want to play it. Cosy the piano up behind the basses, and sit three kids at the keyboard. One can reach over and play in the angel zone for the moment—they will trade places shortly. Add in the school’s resident guitar hero on his electric. If there are still unclaimed kids, they can grab one of the acoustic guitars and pick along with the bass line.

Expect a racket—these eager kids all have access to sticks or strings or a keyboard, after all. Steve tames them down, then gets the drummers to hook into a single tempo. It takes a couple of tries, but these kids are determined. It’s not a perfect lock, but it’s pretty darned good, especially since a couple of them picked up sticks for the first time last week.

The basses and guitars are in position. Steve raises his arms to cue, and the whole gang kicks into action. These young musicians are playing the blues. Steve hollers out the changes, but by the third cycle, many of these kids have got it—they are not only producing the right pitches or chords on instruments that are new to them, but they’re hearing the bigger song structure and are predicting what’s ahead. It’s not exactly beautiful, but it’s certainly alive. When we cycle to a halt, everybody is ecstatic: they’ve made actual music together!

This is the Bridge Program, the Faculty of Music outreach initiative that started this January at Hugh John MacDonald junior high on Bannatyne. Twenty or thirty kids, most of whom have had little or no music instruction, race up to join Steve and Curtis Nowosad and me on Wednesday and Friday afternoons. Every couple of weeks, the senior jazz pedagogy students are there to meet them too. The Hugh John kids are lively and warm and dying to learn. We spend an hour or so working on basic skills, then we gather and jam. It’s wildly intense, it’s wonderfully fun, it’s absolutely inspiring.

Once I would have added incredible to that list, but these kids are teaching me something important: if we believe in them, they will prove us right. By the time Jazz on Wheels season rolls around, expect to meet a few of these young players on the bandstand!

Knut Haugsoen, an architect and musician who made Winnipeg his home for almost four decades, died January 17 at the age of 75.

Haugsoen was born in Norway. He pursued architecture as a career, but a passion for jazz was with him from childhood, and he began performing when he was still a teen. After training in Germany and working as an architect in both Oslo and Chicago, Knut accepted a faculty appointment in architecture at the U of M in 1973, which means he’s been a part of Winnipeg’s jazz community for nearly forty years.

His band Vikrama has four recordings. One Day’s Growth, which was nominated for a Prairie Music Award, features several Winnipeg artists, including Larry Roy, Gilles and Lianne Fournier, and Rob Siwik. Step and a Half, which was nominated for a 2001 Juno, features a high-profile Canadian cast, including trumpeter Ingrid Jensen and saxophonist Mike Murley.

Knut’s fifth recording, Shakti, will be released at a tribute on April 18 at the Winnipeg Art Gallery. To learn more about Knut’s life and music, visit his website: www.vikrama.com.

I was New Orleans this January for the annual Jazz Educators Network meetings. JEN is the phoenix that has emerged from the ashes of IAJE, and there’s a lot to like about it!

There were three unexpected stand-outs for me at this year’s JEN. One was a masterclass on self-directed learning by Harry Pickens, special assistant to the provost at the University of Louisville in Kentucky. He’s also a monster piano player who’s recorded with a bunch of luminaries. He teaches jazz improv to both undergrad and grad students, and he offers cutting-edge classes on creativity and critical thinking. Practically every word that came out of his mouth was life-altering for me—I’m using a lot of his materials today.

The second thing that blew me away: the New Orleans locals who were featured on the performance side of the docket—they were just amazing! I’m thinking especially about a banjo player who could play anything on that instrument, from Cajun and zydeco to second line to bebop. He had this biting sardonic humour and really knew how to work with his audience. I also heard this woman play the tambourine like it’s never been played before. Honestly, you could hear the ride, you could hear the snare—you didn’t need a drummer! She was trading fours with the sax player, it was great. All the New Orleans musicians I heard know how to mix wit with the music, and that gives their playing so much dimension.

The third thing: watching the Air Command band perform with Dave Liebman. I didn’t really expect a strict military band to be so successful presenting such a free and self-expressive art form as jazz but their show knocked my head off! They were all in their impeccably pressed uniforms with high-powered chevron displays—they looked like robots yet their music was swinging like there was no tomorrow. Not only that, but there were well-composed originals, and they had all the most modern language. Military big bands tend to lag about thirty years behind, but I heard stuff out of them that was absolutely fresh.

I was just musing that you don’t find better players in Slide Hampton’s band when the singer walked out. She had a bunch of chevrons too, and she stood at attention—then she proceeded to sing. She had the sound of Ella, Sarah, Peggy Lee, and then she did some of her own original stuff. She had a four-octave range, and she was good across all of it. When she scatted, she blew everybody off the bandstand—including Liebman! I felt stupid for doubting that a military band could be relevant in the jazz element. They schooled me.

Next January, the Jazz Educators Network meets in Louisville Kentucky. I recommend it highly to everybody who’s involved in jazz instruction. I think it’s way better than IAJE because it’s still small—you can see practically everything, and everybody’s open and interested in connecting and sharing ideas. You hear great performances, and you get to connect with people who are committed to passing along the skills and philosophy that make up this amazing art form.

Esperanza Spalding appears to be somebody from another planet. She’s just this absolute musical genius. She’s one of the most giftedly lyrical musicians alive today—when you hear her inventing melodies, it’s nothing short of miraculous.

Esperanza Spalding has been one to watch since she appeared on the jazz scene in 2005. An unconventional kid, she got hooked on music watching Yo Yo Ma on Mr Roger’s Neighborhood, and taught herself enough violin to join the community orchestra. In her teens, she discovered the bass, stepped into jazz, and moved from Portland to Boston to power through the jazz program at Berklee College. The College scooped her up when she graduated at 20, and made her the youngest instructor ever on their faculty.

Her debut, Esperanza, was released in 2005 and rocketed her into public visibility. Her 2006 follow-up, Junjo, along with her busy performing schedule and accolades from people like Stevie Wonder and Herbie Hancock, confirmed her as a young artist with incredible talent and style. The fact that she played at the White House, got a spot on the David Letterman show, and was featured in O Magazine made her something of a star too—in the jazz world, at least.

Here’s a great story about Spalding. Last year she was getting ready to perform at a Prince tribute, and she realized she was scheming about how to tap into that zone of major popularity herself. When she started putting the show together, she was dismayed by how the industry’s emphasis on production and packaging was sucking out the originality and uniqueness of these artists she was envying. “I decided that I was just happy to be a visitor from the liberated realm of jazz,” she says, “and I decided then, whatever happens, I always want to be surveyor of the territory. I want to be the one deciding what my art means, how it’s presented, even if that means not becoming a pop superstar.”

True to form, she continues to make the music she wants to make, and in the way she wants to make it. Her third recording, Chamber Music Society, released last year, blends her classical roots with her passion for jazz. Because it’s such an intimate project, she thought it would have a small audience. A surprise Grammy nomination made a lie of that!

Actually winning the Grammy for Best New Artist this February stunned a lot of the prize-watchers—with Justin Bieber in the field, Spalding was definitely a long shot. But in the aftershock, the chatter in the blogosphere has been positive, with a few commentators observing pointedly that the award is for Best Artist, not biggest pop sensation.

And an artist she is. Not only can she sing like an angel, play a mean bass, and compose like she’s been at it for decades, but she does all those things with enthusiasm and uncompromising commitment.

There is a writer I want you to know. He writes edgy, tough-minded, bitingly ironic novels about crime—serious crime like theft, kidnapping, extortion, murder. His novels are filtered through a sardonic anti-hero, Monty Haaviko, an ex-con who is determined to go straight.

Monty lives in Winnipeg, of all places. It’s not the city you’ll find in the tourist brochures, but it’s a city that his creator, Michael Van Rooy, loved intensely, and invested in as an artist.

Michael has stolen the hearts of a lot of readers with his three Monty novels. An Ordinary Decent Criminal was first out of the gate, and established Michael as a writer with grit and speed. That first novel was followed by Your Friendly Neighborhood Criminal, and most recently A Criminal to Remember. Readers in the US are now discovering Michael’s intelligence. They’re also discovering his Winnipeg.

Stories about crime are wildly popular, and they have been for a long time. I suspect it’s because they incorporate some of our big terrors (injustice, humiliation, death) while piquing us with the clandestine thrill of rebellion and anti-social power. At the same time, they sketch out a moral universe where right ultimately triumphs—or where wrong at least is exposed and judged.

I suspect there’s an even deeper pleasure: death becomes a plot feature, a complication that a character like Monty has to negotiate. Death is tamed down to a trick of narrative—it loses its sting.

Michael Van Rooy, the wonderful novelist and slightly more wonderful human being, died suddenly and unexpectedly at the end of January. He was only 42. For all of us in Michael’s community, this loss has been a tsunami—it’s impossible to brace yourself against such a huge and impersonal force, impossible to make sense of the devastating aftermath.

It’s also a blunt reminder that we like stories that diminish death precisely because it is so unbelievably potent. We face it as best we’re able, but it remains inconceivable. We cannot understand it because it is beyond us.

I miss Michael. Like all artists, though, Michael had a secret power of his own. In telling great stories, he has tricked death by leaving tracks that outlast him—novels that are well-built and subtle and engaging at a very deep level, novels that are aware of the complex demands of doing right in a morally ambiguous world. Like the man himself.

I’m so glad I knew him. I’m so glad you have a chance to meet him still.