Jazz is an acquired taste. So is freedom.
Good afternoon.
The downsides of Covid-19 remain pretty intense, even six months in—a teetering global economy, high unemployment, over 200,000 dead in our country alone, the fear of the virus and its health impacts. If you happen to run an arts organization, or any other venue that is dependent on ticket sales, that’s life-threatening. If you’re an artist who travels for a living to make a living, it's a doubly scary time. Covid-19 has brought organizations and artists to their knees.
But there are a few upsides to shelter-in-place.
One for me is that I’ve gotten to spend a lot more time at home and don’t have the usual obligations to go anywhere. It's a much lighter schedule, and I'm not compelled to attend events that in normal circumstances would be obligations. But there are a number of events I truly want to be at, even in a virtual form.
For the past 62 Septembers, the Monterey Jazz Festival has presented the best of jazz at the Monterey Fairgrounds. I’ve had season tickets for over 30 years and despite the festival marathon—three days and two nights of nonstop multi-stage music, a demanding extravaganza—it’s always been worth the push. The Monday after, I’m typically exhausted but energized, having been witness to some of the greatest musicians working in one of the greatest art forms.
You may not be a jazz fan, and that would not make you unique—jazz is an “acquired” taste. I was introduced to the music when working as a retail clerk for Flo’s Records in Pittsburgh, a job I got in high school that I was wildly enthusiastic to have as a music lover.
In those days, the early 1970s, we peddled a bunch of Bob Dylan, The Band, The Eagles and Paul McCartney records. Flo’s was in a racially mixed neighborhood, and our customers and their requests reflected that. We sold equal amounts of Johnny Guitar Watson, Bootsy and his Rubber Band, Stanley Turrentine and George Benson (both of whom were from Pittsburgh, where I grew up).
One of the benefits of working in a record store is the free music, and after every shift my manager, Scott, would give me an album to take home for my collection, plus musical education. He was an avid jazz fan and crusader. I went home with records by a Czech bass player named Miroslav Vitous, albums by Grover Washington, Jr., Thelonius Monk, and yes, even the Crusaders. Scott made sure that I listened to Joni Mitchell to hear how jazz influenced her songwriting. Tower of Power from Oakland was another favorite of his. I was in school. I fell in love with jazz and dreamed of attending the Monterey Jazz Festival, plotting a cross-country trip with my friends to attend.
MJF has always been one of the most diverse events of the year for this community, attracting a multi-racial crowd for three days of jazz, blues, food and drink. It’s world-famous. Artists cherish the opportunity to play at MJF. Some very famous recordings came from the festival.
MJF pushes the boundaries, a multi-generational event where both jazz masters and some still-pimply high-school players (the best in the country) get a chance to present their interpretation of jazz: musicianship (at a high level), improvisation, unbounded creativity, solo playing to big band madness, original tunes to reinterpretation of classics.
This past weekend, MJF was supposed to be happening live. Like everything else, it was canceled. Which led MJF to air its first-ever virtual concert, three two-hour shows from Friday through Sunday.
The production was creative and mostly high quality. The music always sounded great. Culling from a combination of archival footage from past concerts, interviews with artists (some were scheduled to have appeared on the stage), plus other pre-recorded Zoom performances from home studios, MJF rose from the Covid ashes to create a compelling, free festival.
To see the Next Generation Jazz Orchestra perform via Zoom, each musician playing from their bedroom or parents’ basement, was riveting. We were also invited into the studio of the Berklee College of Music in Boston, considered the top jazz college in the country. This led to one of my favorite performances of the weekend by their Jazz & Gender Justice Quintet created by drummer Terri Lyne Carrington, who interviewed civil rights activist and retired UC Santa Cruz professor Angela Davis in a discussion about jazz, gender, freedom and justice during Sunday’s show. The Berklee students were potent, and this quintet is young, just past their high-school years.
As our future depends on the next generation, MJF was a hopeful beacon. There’s reason to be hopeful, and it was on screen throughout the weekend.
Juxtaposed with the youth were performances from past MJF shows. A mid-70s Herbie Hancock back in 2017 while playing his keytar, legendary Quincy Jones conducting a big band with Dave Grusin and Hubert Laws, the late Roy Hargrove’s last performance in Monterey on his soulful trumpet, pianist Dave Bruebeck’s original composition set to John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row.
Jazz, as I’ve come to learn, is an expression of freedom. It invites us all to celebrate our freedom, Black music, innovation. And MJF delivered all, again. The festival’s expressed support for Black Lives Matter during one segment demonstrated that MJF continues to be an organization that is tapped into what’s real and important, in addition to what ought to be showcased, devoured and appreciated.
Overall, the virtual concert was an experiment that worked, and is worth repeating. The festival was also a fundraiser for MJF, the musicians who appeared, plus both the Thurgood Marshall College Fund and the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund. These are all worthy and timely causes, and MJF raised $55,000 and counting, with donations still coming in..
If you’re still not sure about jazz, listen to Bill Evans’ “Peace Piece” and let me know what you think. I find that tune soothing in these tumultuous times. Scott, my former manager from Flo’s Records would be pleased to know I’m still doing my job.
-Bradley Zeve, Founder & CEO, bradley@mcweekly.com
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