February 7th, 2005
I am no longer a jazz virgin. It happened yesterday–a beautiful, unseasonably warm Super Bowl Sunday. Here is the story.
The lovely and talented Carrie Rodriguez (my fellow fiddler) was having a party, so Michael Daves, Chloe and I loaded in the car and drove out to Williamsburg. We brought our instruments of course. Carrie and Richie, my new favorite banjo player, were already playing Cluck Old Hen in the kitchen when we got there.
It was a great mix of people. Old time & bluegrass musicians like me, Michael, Richie and Carrie, and then a whole group of jazz musicians from Spain, some of whom I later found out were in town to play with Chick Corea… but more about that later. We moved to the basement so Carrie could cook the mac & cheese without distraction.
A few more tunes and one klezmer demonstration later ("la musica de los judios de Eastern Europe” was the extent of my lecture), the jazz folks started playing and I put down my fiddle. I know nothing about jazz, but even I knew that this was incredible. Everyone listening was blown away. I was not surprised to find out later that my fellow partygoers were (are) world-famous flamenco jazz musicians. But at the moment I was simply listening speechlessly to these strangers play their instruments.
We switched back and forth between jazz and old time jams for a while, and finally the two began to merge. Michael was leading songs and passing around solos. By that time, the Jolly Bankers had arrived so we had FIVE fiddles, plus banjo, plus an assortment of drummers, plus trombone, flute, and electric bass by Rubem, Jorge and Carles, Chick Corea’s Touchstone band–and lots of clapping, hollering partygoers.
Michael started “Take Me Back to Tulsa,” the melody passed from musician to musician, and on his extended flute solo, Jorge morphed the tune into La Cucaracha, much to the delight of all the other musicians and listeners. Kristen was clogging on a board, Rubem would occasionally start chanting in Portuguese (I think) above the melody. It was one of those moments when something utterly unique is happening, and everyone there is at once creating it, and witnessing it being created. Live music is unlike other art forms in that (if you’re not recording) you can’t hold on to it, only appreciate it while it’s there. And so we did.
Eventually we took a break and started talking to each other. It turns out that not only are they musical geniuses, the Touchstone men are also total sweethearts. Carles invited me to check out their last show of the NYC tour - 10:30 that night at the Blue Note. He said tickets were $45, but he’d do his best to put me on the guest list. I said I’d do my best to show up after my sister’s Super Bowl party, figuring there was no chance he’d remember.
But my friend D. and I decided to give it a try. We left Brooklyn during the 3rd quarter of the game, and arrived at the Blue Note just as the band was about to start. I faked confidence to the guy at the door - “I’m on the guest list” - and then looked down and saw my name. Carles had indeed put me plus one! I could not believe it!
And so it came to pass that at 10:30 on Super Bowl Sunday, as Patriots fans celebrated and Eagles fans hung their heads, Chick Corea took the stage with Carles, Jorge and Rubem; D. and I took our seats; and I was initiated into the world of jazz in a most surprising, most exquisite way. I couldn’t begin to describe the music in words. Solamente quiero decir a Carles, Rubem, Jorge, Javi y Carrie Luz… muchas, muchas gracias!!!
