Jazz Virgin
I admit it. I’m a jazz virgin.
But The Pfister Hotel is going to initiate me.
At the Mason Street Grill on Wednesday evening, after listening to part of a set by the Jamie Breiwick/Mark Davis Duo, I snuck up to a table where a woman was sitting alone.
The Jamie Breiwick/Mark Davis Duo
Her companion had just temporarily vacated his seat to chat with Jamie and Mark. This seemed like a good opportunity to see what she knew and thought about jazz. I introduced myself (her name is Sheryl) and remarked about how smoothly Jamie’s embouchure and Mark’s fingers communicated with each other, almost telepathically (I didn’t use the term “embouchure”–I had to look that up!). I was really bemoaning the fact that I’d never been able to tear my eyes away from the sheet music and just, well, jam. Improvise. Instead, my classical and acoustic guitar playing was always literally by-the-book. Sheryl conjectured that improvisation was like telling each other, “We’re going to do this together–but also separately. Let’s just agree to play in this key, this tempo, this style.” Then I’m going to play, then you’ll come in when it seems right. I’ll listen to your notes, you listen to my rhythm. We’ll build off each other. Communicate and create with a look, a beat, a tone. We’ll build off what we know and take it from there.
Sheryl’s husband, Kurt, whose seat I had taken, is an accomplished pianist, composer, and arranger. When Kurt returned to the table, I learned that he had arranged the music this spring for James & the Giant Peach at The Prairie School, where Jamie and I just got done teaching for the year, and had also just performed with Aretha Franklin at the Riverside the previous Friday. When I told them that one of my missions as the Narrator is to uncover the story of jazz at The Pfister–and educate myself on the genre–both Sheryl and Kurt recommended that I begin my instruction with Ken Burn’s famous Jazz documentary series. Sheryl admitted to knowing about as much as I do about the technical side of jazz, but it must be nice having a jazz expert to which to defer when jazz virgins like me ask questions like “How do Jamie and Mark know when to come in after the other one solos?” or “Are there many female jazz musicians? Have there ever been? If not, then how come?” or “Were they just playing Coltrane or modern jazz or Monk or someone else?” She was able to help up to a point, then she and I were in the same boat. I hope we’ll find ourselves in that boat again during my year-long Pfister initiation into the world of jazz.
This pleasant conversation seems like a good starting point for my initiation–that and Ted Gioia’s Jazz Standards, which I had tucked into my bag in case I had time to read while listening to Jamie and Mark. I wouldn’t have time to read, but I would go on that evening to meet several other people who undoubtedly will become some of my jazz mentors this year.
Jamie made sure to introduce me to August (Auggie) Ray, vice president of Jazz Unlimited of Greater Milwaukee, whose mission is “to support the art of jazz in all its forms and encourage local jazz musicians, composers and venues by cultivating an interest in jazz through local live performances, youth scholarship opportunities and community outreach throughout the Greater Milwaukee area.” Auggie sat near the piano and typed prodigiously into his iPhone, posting to Facebook a photo of the Duo, some notes, and the location. He calls The Pfister “one of the best promoters of live music in the city.” With live piano seven days a week, live music in the Mason Street Grill six days, and live music at Blu at least two times a week, I couldn’t argue with him. The Pfister is not alone in promoting live music, especially jazz. Auggie moves from one live music venue to another throughout the week, averaging two a day, although his personal record is six in one day: Amelia’s at 5:00, The Packing House at 6:00, Caroline’s at 8:00 (mostly blues), Mason Street Grill at 9:00, then the Jazz Estate for until 1:00 am (reopening in July!). At each new place, he posts to Facebook. He is a constant presence in the life of jazz and blues in Milwaukee. We only got to chat for a little bit, because he was headed up to Blu, but not before he gave me a Jazz Unlimited newsletter (this is going to be invaluable!) and told me that Dan Albrechtson, who plays piano in The Pfister lobby, has a steady gig–on every second Monday at Hart Park in Wauwatosa, where I live–giving a concert and jazz history lesson with Pete Wood, Bruce Yeo, Don Shesky, and Rob Moore. (I’ll see you there soon, Dan!)
Before the night ended, I joined Mark Davis and his Wisconsin Conservatory of Music colleague, guitarist Paul Silbergleit, at Blu, where, it turns out, Mark Thierfelder had booked The Julie Lyon Quartet from New York City to play a special show with his Mark Thierfelder Trio. (Of course, Auggie was up there already, posting away!) Among other musical combos, Mark also plays with The Jazz Corporation, joined by Greg Marcus and Bill Bonifas. While Julie sang the Ella Fitzgerald/Louis Armstrong version of 1945’s “Frim-Fram Sauce,” popularized by The Nat King Cole Trio, Paul and I discussed my earlier regret, the one I’d shared with Sheryl, about never being able to improvise or jam. In something of a consolation, he assured me that there are musicians who only improvise but who don’t really know music, and that there are musicians who can only read music, who know notes on the page and perhaps music theory, but who don’t really feel music. He argued for a happy medium. We also talked about how one’s environment can come out in one’s music, just as it can emerge in writing (Paul referenced Hemingway and Key West).
The Julie Lyon Quartet
However, as interesting and cerebral as our conversation became, these are things I’ll have to think about later as I try to learn more about jazz, as an art form and as a source of stories here at The Pfister Hotel. Sometimes, at midnight, in a crowded bar with interesting gentlemen and songs about pork chops and bacon, oss-en-fay and shafafa, one just wants to enjoy one’s Old Fashioned, nibble on wasabi peas, tell stories, laugh–and listen.