Category : diary

A Note On This Past Fall

I’ve described this whole period since this past Fall as a kind of downhill slalom where I’ve taken a spill, and have been hoping for a big boulder or tree stump to slow me down. ‘Parenthesis’: However, this downhill slalom is wonderful and beautiful… And I’m just now wrapping up one of the most creative periods in my life, with my upcoming George Duke Tribute occupying an apex point in it all. That will have its own post or many posts, as it has been an extraordinary project that we’ve been working on here.

This period of creativity began with a 10-city summer tour, which we’ve already talked about. Then I went into the Fall season with a very serious project in mind, that required a sizeable chunk of personal quiet private time, to write. To write a piece called, “Ode to Ballet.” A lot of you guys remember Freddie Ravel. He was music director in my band for several years, and collaborated with me on several songs including “Tomorrow Today” and “Betty Bebop Song.” Well, his wife is a serious ballet dancer, born in Quebec, and has danced with Nureyev and Baryshnikov, pas de deux. I met Marie, “Sweetie,” just a short time after she and Freddie met. And I remember hearing parts of their telephone conversations backstage in any number of cities between her and Freddie, who addressed her as “Sweetie” to begin every sentence. It was so funny. Marie even accepts my calling her Sweetie.

Well, it’s 15 years and two children later, not to mention a serious car accident and an extensive rehabilitation, and Marie has continued to dance. In fact, she’s started her own ballet company. As I posted in November, I joined Freddie in writing our special “Ode to Ballet,” for her program On Pointe at 50… And Beyond. The poem is reproduced here:

My Kite, the Dancer (Ode to Ballet) by Al Jarreau and Freddie Ravel, 2013

We made a kite of the birch wood’s finest parchment,
Pages of paper that trees made and poets share.
It soars like the church chimes that fly through the hills and gardens
All sunlit and silent with a pigtail, like little girls wear.

My dancer, my partner, my kite tells a past
Of when kites were dancers indeed:
A tinkling piano, a bar glued to glass
And mornings with Erik Satie.

Alice and Dorothy—Good name for a song—
They hurry and scurry and curtsy at dawn.
Alice and Dorothy, pastels and chiffon,
Tchaikovsky and Dickens on Christmas Morn.

Ba-rish-nina-kovas, Marias from Spain
Come calling from towns far and wide
With waltzes and polkas and strange sounding names
From mothers who squeezed every dime.

So, is it insane: Sweet feet in binds?
On pointe in pain—Oh butterfly!

Silk satin slippers and ribbons disguise
The long hours and powers unfurled when… you… fly…

With heart beating bellows no tunics can hide
And blood pumping whispers and murmurs and sighs,
Just honey and berries and tea and plain rice
For sugar plum fairies in training to fight.

Then wonder that effortless look on your face
Right here in one moment such power, such grace.

A music box. A figurine.
A lords and ladies-a-leapin’ dream.

Some kinsmen say:
“Sweet feet in binds, on pointe in play, Brave Butterfly!
When aches and pains and agonies
Turn into joys and ecstasies.
And mark ye well this other place
Where aches and pains forge power and grace…
And gold and silver fantasies await your noble Alchemies.”

So sinews and old shoes, bright eyes off to class,
Your heart’s in your hand, your pulse pounding fast,
You twist and you bend; reach up, out, and past
As though this one moment could be your last.

My kite, the dancer, will always say:
“I’m from deep woods and forests where hummingbirds play
And the rings of these trees found in ships bows and bays
Become stories and rhymes of our times and our days.”

My paper kite dances, then stops, and then dives.
The oak and birch wood up there, still alive.

Whirling and twirling, above the lake
With shimmering reflections – a blue sky ballet.
My heart skips in awe and do I dare say
Just like the White Swan that stole the day.

And you of the dance might have used all your might
To fly over a bar or a finish line…
Well, shout “De-ga-je! Gran plié! Port to bra!”
With bouquets of roses, we stand and applaud
As you gracefully reach out and touch the face of God.

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Billboard Live; Tokyo and Osaka, Japan–January 2014

There are still several places you can go in the world that have preserved the niceties and civilities associated with very old cultures. Japan is one of those places. Immediately when we arrived at the airport in Tokyo we were greeted by our Billboard Live host of recent years named Kumi. She greeted us with a big bow and a bigger smile, and off we were from the airport to the hotel. We were all very happy to find our beds after a 10 hour flight and a 17 hour time change. We were ready to get some rest before we hit it hard the next day.

And boy did the next day get there fast! The afternoon rolled around and we all went to the venue, where I have played 3 or 4 times before. It occurred to me as I was preparing for soundcheck, “This must be my 35th year coming to Japan.” I came here first in 1979, brought in by one of the great early promoters of Jazz in Japan, Tats Nagashima. Even many years before me, he had brought Nat King Cole, which opened a flood of other Western artists. In those 35 years, I must have visited just as many times, and my audience is still very faithful. I love playing for them.

Joe Turano and I got together in Los Angeles last week to work out a set for the Tokyo crowd. The plan was a rigorous 2-shows-per-night, 3 nights out of 4, with a live on air performance the second night. So, of course, we wanted to make it special. We opened strong with Boogie Down, and burned straight through into Mornin’. I love that start. It really announces that, hey, we came to party. And the people came right along with us.

It’s hard to condense 4 shows into one write up like this, especially when we are playing live music that is not “canned,” that is fresh and new for the audience. So many wonderful things happened, so many wonderful faces in the audience seeing and feeling and experiencing and sharing these moments that are being created right now on stage. There was one group of four women in the front row in each of the Tokyo shows, and then two of them even showed up in Osaka! True superfans—Jarreauniacs! Thank you, Kaori, Kumiko, and the rest of you! It was great having such enthusiasm right in the front row.

With a bit of lament in our feelings we’ve come to accept these 2-show per night gigs in Japan during the last 15 years… “Big Club” situations. Perhaps we’ve become spoiled by a single-performance concert evening. Surely for Jazz and pop, etc., the longer tradition has been a 3 set per night gig. The essential difference is in intensity of performance over the evening. In a concert performance, it’s blood, sweat, and tears the whole time. No stone is unturned, and it’s a maxed out event. That approach is unworkable in a two-set evening. Certainly not three sets. BUT. The expectations of management and listeners are exactly the same as a single-show concert night. But twice. These are the changing realities in the world of available work. So when you’ve decided that you want to work and you’re going to work, you make the adjustment, gird your loins, and go forth into the fray.

I was remarking to myself and Patrick with joy and wonderment about how the folks in the audience during all six performances sang in unison on the bridge to Mornin’. This is not just an “Oo, shoobeedoo, the sky is blue” sort of lyric. Especially being that these ideas are happening in a second language. But there they were, apparently understanding it, and singing every word. And enjoying the completed thought and notion.

This is a tough time of the year anywhere for concerts, and ticket sales. Everybody’s just crossed over from Christmas into new years, and their pockets are not as full. So we have to be happy that Billboard thought we could draw some people. And we did.

During all six performances, the band setup was close and cozy. This makes for a real recognizable intimate communication inside of the band. This excitement and electric communication onstage is tangible for the audience. It’s one of the great extras of working in the club situation.

There are niceties that transpire between people in Japanese culture that are wonderful and delicate traditions of kindness and courtesy that are a wonder to behold. Gift giving! Not expensive gifts, but just a little comment that says, “Before you arrived, I was thinking about you. And I wanted you to have these little cloth napkins that we use.” Or “… this special pair of chopsticks.” Or “… a little toy. Toss the ball on a string into the cup.” Oh, the sun will surely rise in the morning without these little pleasantries between people. But. This is a long way from the “Fonz” approach. I love it.

This kind of attention to detail is everywhere. It’s the tea service tradition, the delicate bonsai tree groomed just so, and enormous pride in your work… Taxi driver, house keeper, Billboard Live staff.

So we really mean it when we say, “Let’s do it again soon.”

Thank you,
Love,
Al

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Brazil

If you’re just tuning in, then Brazil is a surprise to you, too. Patrick and I were just recounting this recent fortnight.  We left 15 days ago and went to Toronto, to Kiawah Island, to Newark, NJ, to Brazil… a crazy routing.

Brazil is awesome and breathtaking unlike anyplace else on the planet. I looked out of my window at 10 o’clock in the morning, and the beach was jammed with people and umbrellas and babies and volleyballs as far to the right and left as you could see, more than a mile in each direction. And yes, it’s called Ipanema Beach.

Almost all the time, one is astounded by the view out to sea with a glance to the left that shows Corcavado with Christ The Redeemer on top, arms outstretched. Or looked the other direction and there’s the iconic Sugarloaf mound. And it was with these feelings inside that we drove an hour and a half from Rio to Petropolis. Petropolis is a long ways up the mountains, and Alina, the sister of our main promoter Junior, was just delightful. She became like Auntie Alina, showing us things and pointing out other stuff. And talking about her daughter Nina, inspiring me to sing “Nina Never Knew.” We even started a new song, with Nina’s name in it.

When we got to our venue, we discovered it actually resembles a huge Swiss chalet. It’s surprising and awesome to see it appear, all white and St. Moritz-like, right here in Brazil. It had been a casino at one time, but now is a collection of elegant residential suites. No more casino, but they did construct a real concert venue with a wrap-around mezzanine. The highlight of the evening was Brazilian artist Zé Ricardo joining me on stage, and the two of us doing some real authentic Brazilian music.

BUT! Suddenly all the power went out onstage. I’m laughing now, and I even laughed when it happened. Why? Because it’s just… PERFECT. Just made to order for a professional singer of 50 years. Of course, if this kind of power failure happens at Yankees Stadium or the Rose Bowl, then you’re sunk. But not in Petropolis. Larry and I looked at each other with a “Let me at ‘em” attitude. We fumbled a little bit, but then decided, “Let’s go acoustic right at these people!” The ever-poignant Waltz for Debbie, followed by Summertime. By the end of Summertime, the band was back powered up and we finished strong. They roared. This got the biggest applause of the evening, it seemed to me. They really appreciated this “Take care of business” effort. And then Zé came and joined us, and things took off into the sky and still another direction, with everybody singing “Agua de Beber” and “Mas Que Nada.”

Wow. What do we do tomorrow?

I’ll tell you what we did. The band powered onto stage in front of 6000 people in downtown Rio on the festival grounds right by their central lake. And it was electric, literally and figuratively.

We had arrived early and shared one continuous long gasp as we stood there in the shadow of the Christ statue on Corcavado, ever present to the eyes in your head and heart. The sun was shining and some teenagers rollerskated, and partied about as we soundchecked on this holiday weekend. And then, of all things, I listened to the soundcheck of Paulo Jobim and group. Antonio Carlos Jobim’s son was playing the tradition, and I sneaked over to the edge of the stage and just sat there, marveling at this matinee. This was the stuff of my dreams. At home in Sausalito and San Francisco, I tried to create this: This sunny afternoon matinee, with the accompaniment of the wonderful soft samba sound. Open the doors, and walk in and out with an umbrella drink or not. My mind was in flight.

All of this culminated in the evening performance with a full moon watching everybody. The light from the stage spilled out into the audience so that we could see smiles and dancing far out into the whole gathering. The band was precise and locked. Joe’s and Larry’s and John’s and Mark’s solos were inspired but oh-so-relaxed and intimate: Fire & Ice. Zé joined me again as I took time to tell everybody how they (and I pointed at them) had changed my life… All true! And I began to tick off the names of artists who they recognized and spontaneously yelled and screamed in appreciation.  These were their heroes, too.

Zé is loose and fun and “of the moment.” You know I love that. So the both of us were really conscious of this spontaneity even as we did it. Wow! There’s a special magic in the air when that happens. It’s a natural high. We did encores and they still wanted more. So we gave it to them. The band and I hugged and high-fived in our own joyful satisfaction of doing our best and beyond.

Our promoters with SESC were laughing and grinning and clapping their hands in joy. It was everything they hoped for and more. And we felt the same way. Something special had happened that’s like the doors swinging open, with a real attractive view into the future.

I am happy.

Love, Al

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James Moody Democracy of Jazz Festival and Sarah Vaughn Vocalist Contest

The brilliant bassist Christian McBride formed a big band and invited several singers to come and perform in honor of “Sass”: Cyrille Aimee, Melissa Walker, Jeffrey Osborne, Dianne Reeves, and me. I was also asked to judge a Sarah Vaughn singing competition the day after the grand performance. More about that later.

We flew in from Charleston, South Carolina so we were puffin’ a little bit at our 2:30pm rehearsal. My music director Joe Turano helped me get settled in with the big band, and we had a too-short rehearsal. They were probably the same for everybody else. I found myself thinking about how infrequently I have ever gotten to Newark, NJ. Wow. I’m many years into my career, and I still very frequently find myself saying, “I hardly got to know you.” It’s real uncomfortable in all the obvious ways. As a recording artist and performer, you really hope to reach lots of people. If you had heard how they greeted me, you’d be saying, “Wow! Al! Those people really like you…” And you’d be right. What I know, however, is that in my entire career, I’ve been to Newark fewer than half a dozen times. Wow, I’ve got a lot of work to do. This beautiful downtown performing arts center was full at showtime and how appropriate for Cyrille to be here and open the evening. She’s a hot new jazz singer from France that I heard at Thelonious Monk Competition in DC around 3 years ago. She was my pick for “winning,” and she was magical tonight.

I am bowing to Christian McBride and the band, and really congratulate Darlene Chan our producer on a really wonderful and beautiful event. I’m so glad about this 2013 contact with Newark, NJ. The next day began a singing competition between 5 semi-finalists of the Sarah Vaughn “Sassy Awards” Competition. This competition was organized by Larry Rosen and Carl Griffin’s Jazz Roots educational organization. Ramsey Lewis and I appear frequently on their stages and in their classrooms.

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Earl Klugh Weekend of Jazz at the Kiawah Island Golf Resort

I was just remarking to Patrick about the fact that I really don’t have a working geography in my head of the Carolinas and nearby Atlantic coast. As a matter of fact, I really have a shabby understanding of the New York and Jersey Atlantic coast, where I happen to visit and play rather frequently. But visits to the Carolina part of the Atlantic coast are really rare.

So anyway, we froze our butts off on this cold Carolina coast, in NOVEMBER. I hope you can tell, I’m laughing and smiling here in delight. But I’m serious about the cold. The golf resort is right on the coast… I mean 50 yards out of the side door and you’re walking on the sandy beach. And so, quite naturally, when it’s not hot summertime, there’s gonna be cool and gusty coastal weather.

But-  Earl Klugh’s weekends of jazz are always warm and cozy and happy wherever they are. And so it was down here at the Kiawah Resort, with grits in the morning. Earl and Denise always do something special with their jazz weekend that involves an opportunity for jazz guests and artists to meet and say hello, for cocktails or lunch, always optional. See—Always warm and cozy! For instance, this time, we had a wonderful afternoon Question & Answer session with Earl, and Burt Bacharach, and Jay from Spiro Gyra, and local DJ/Journalist Richard Todd. That was fun. I’ve done lots of these Q&A afternoons, but it’s always with press, not guests/audience people. It’s a lot less clinical like this. It was obvious how touched and moved and warmed by the presence of Burt Bacharach everyone was. Humble and sweet and generous is what you get from Burt Bacharach.

8:45pm saw me and my band in full swing on the resort’s big open lawn, with 1200 people in white folding chairs under mushroom heaters in rapt attention after Spiro Gyra left the stage appropriately hot for me and my guys. This audience was great, and even though they shivered and blew on their cupped hands to stay warm, they gave off a wonderful heat and warmth of their own, and we had a great time. There were two ladies down front and left of me who jammed so hard all night, and repeatedly high-fived each other at special moments during songs and after songs. They stayed all night.

There was wonderful applause and cheering when Earl suddenly joined me in the middle of the set to do “This Time.” It’s almost difficult for me to grasp how old this piece of music actually is. I heard it pre-1980. It became the title song for the 1980 release of my own. It’s a little wacky that I’ve always considered Earl to be one of the ‘baby-child geniuses’ in our shared genre.   In any case, it’s a staple in my repertoire, and often it’s pointed out and pointed to by others as a big favorite and high point of excellence.

Earl and the band must have been oh-so-thankful for those little hot pocket hand-warmers that they had stuffed in their pockets to keep their fingers warm. We did finally prevail over and above the chill in the air, but I can tell you, it was breathing down our collars. And the audience’s standing ovation at the end surely involved some attempt to move around and stay warm… We did come back for more, and there were smiles and happiness all around. And off they all went to an after-hours party in the hotel lobby bar that was extraordinary. Normally, people are getting in their cars and heading off to home in all directions. Home, on this night, was just moments away on foot. Party over here!!

Snooze!

See you in Newark with Christian McBride and the Big Band!

-Al

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Markham, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

I’m always “crying in my beer” about almost never getting to come to Canada. There’s any number of towns where people must have heard of this “Wild and Crazy Guy” from Milwaukee. Toronto, Montreal, Vancouver, and would you believe Calgary? I played Calgary in 1969! Well, I opened for Steppenwolf. Well… you get the idea.

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