A persistent breeze dispersed any accumulating haze, but the Truman Brewery courtyard nonetheless stank of cigarettes. Even in the early afternoon, a line stretched from the outdoor bar and towers of identically branded beer cups dotted picnic tables like wasp nests. But under the sun kids roamed free, toting soft serve cones. Friends chatted and strolled, many sipping on vibrant iced drinks from the endless specialty coffee shops that battle Bengali curry houses for dominion over Spitalfields. A tenor saxophonist’s warmups drifted from a window; down the street, a singer and electric bassist drew passersby into one of the several free venues running all weekend at Brick Lane Jazz Festival. Ticketed shows were tightly controlled with bag checks and thorough pat downs, but the festival – a celebration of London culture as much as the music spawned from it – offered something for everyone.
The convivial atmosphere extended into Ninety One Living Room, where Jazz re:freshed and Xhosa Cole welcomed an eager early crowd. I have borne witness to Cole’s reinterpretation of Thelonious Monk twice before; both occasions featured large ensembles, special guests, and laughter throughout. The ‘chordless’ saxophone trio format offers up a comparative cornucopia of space but, absent a piano to anchor the harmony, punishes players for exploring too far. It is a merciless, exposing setting that demands intimate knowledge of the material and the tendencies of one’s bandmates, tests that Cole and bassist Josh Vadiveloo in particular aced repeatedly. Cole has long drawn comparisons to Sonny Rollins, and on this afternoon he challenged the intensity of A Night at the Village Vanguard.
The band knows these tunes inside and out, and slipped with ease from one to the next. But the ebullience that underlined prior outings was supplanted by a teetering unease. Monk’s writing frequently emphasises dominant chords, whole tone scales, and uneven forms. By breaking apart melodies and obliterating the line between arrangement and improvisation, Cole’s trio embraced the off-kilter aesthetics of those techniques and built a tension that held throughout their marathon medleys. Drummer Tim Giles scraped gusts of wind from a cymbal and rapped his snare with the force and precision of a machine gun. His onslaught of ideas could overbear, but ultimately heightened the anxiety that Cole generated by way of rising motifs from tunes such as ‘Rhythm-a-ning’ and ‘Straight, No Chaser’, winding them up until the room felt ready to burst. Things came to a head when Cole screamed through a chorus of ‘Ask Me Now’, one of Monk’s most tender ballads, but in a flash the trio deflated. Bowed bass notes swelled to fill the air while Cole swayed, delicately holding on to the last gasps of breath at the end of each note. The set closed on a major cadenza: a romantic resolution earned through thirty minutes of tension.
Presided over by master of ceremonies Adam Moses, the day felt like the world’s most talented school showcase. Moses, a founder and executive of Jazz re:freshed, introduced each act with a personal anecdote. Pianist Deschanel Gordon received a ribbing about not yet being on record; Moses and his co-founder Justin McKenzie’s jaws dropped when they first heard Richie sing; Cole was simply “the future of jazz”. The love was clearly mutual, as the artists gave their own shoutouts to Jazz re:freshed and its two decade history of serving underrepresented British musicians. Moses prefaced each set by firmly instructing the audience to keep conversations outside, and always concluded with a plea to physically or digitally buy music rather than streaming it. In a part of the city that can feel waterlogged with trend-hunting consumerism, these reminders of the humans behind the music and their economic realities refreshed.
Gordon, playing with Vadiveloo and drummer Will Cleasby, made the bandstand his personal playground. The pianist ran roughshod over bop, R&B, and contemporary fusion alike, demonstrating equally his ability to swing like Bud Powell and saunter like Count Basie. Over one soulful groove in particular, Gordon wobbled up to the top of the keyboard like a many-legged insect, sparsely sprinkling showers of notes before slipping and sliding back down the ladder. It was a masterful solo, underscored at every turn by Vadiveloo, the afternoon’s MVP. The JD Beck-style drumming and a few other elements failed to fully cohere, reminding one that Gordon is still young and developing a unique identity. But he has all the tools, and if Cole’s career is any indication, he will soon be one of the guiding lights of British jazz.
As night fell, the arrival of Richie and her eight-piece band signalled an atmospheric shift. Virtuosic improvisation was over; the hour of dance floor bangers was nigh. With magisterial demeanour and gargantuan support, Richie delivered on that front. Her sunglasses, unexcitable expression, and oft-raised beverage radiated cool and helped her guide the crowd through her eclectic songs. Most impressive was her chemistry with her three backing vocalists, each of whom got a moment in the spotlight. Richie’s even delivery blended beautifully with the trio’s luscious, cloudlike harmonies, which cushioned and lifted every word. And when the reggae started toward the end of her set, the crowd – already enraptured – lost it. One can only hope that Richie gets to perform with an ensemble of this size often, because the richness of texture and dynamic depth that the band provided elevated every song. The set was, in that sense, emblematic of the programme that Jazz re:freshed arranged: supportive and familial, artists backing artists, all in this together to forge something greater. In a festival built on community, the Ninety One Living Room stage served as a beacon of what such efforts can accomplish.
One Response
Great review. Reading it, I could almost have been there. Wish I’d gone.