[Dixielandjazz] Breda Jazz Festival (Eli Newberger)

[Eli Newberger]

Dear Elazar, and greetings all,

I just got back from Breda, too, and got an entirely different
impression of the scene and of the music.  (Fair notice:  I was there to
play with Butch Thompson and Jimmy Mazzy.)

Never, anywhere, have I listened to such amazing music in such marvelous
settings.  Some of the high points, and there were many:  Butch
Thompson's Friday solo recital in an ancient (we're talking 1569, and
French Walloon) church (the local paper assigned their classical music
to review the concert and ran the review on the front page); the
Saturday duo concert, where the sponsors paired some of the most lively
and creative players (tenor player/vocalist Ben Jones with vibist
Tatsuji Deguchi; trumpet Colin Dawson with Butch; Jimmy Mazzy with
bassist Jan Voogd; guitar Nagome Sakuma with trumpet Irakli de
Davrichewy, for example)(John Allred gave a deeply felt version of Up
the Lazy River with me on piano and then switched to tuba to join me on
I got Rhythm and Tiger Rag); and the pulsing, rhythm section of the Phil
Mason band, with Trevor Williams on bass and Jim McIntosh on banjo (with
a splendid sub for drummer Ron McKay, who's recently retired from
international touring.  

But to really hear Phil's band, it was the Saturday afternoon set, in
the Havrmarket off the main square, where the sound was perfect.  (Here
the sound man was a serious fan.)  Trevor's bass came across
beautifully.  All the old snaps, ornaments, and fillips with there.  The
band plays over an implied shuffle that gets everybody's juices flowing.
Phil is playing leagues better than he did when the Max Collie band hit
the stateside scene in Indianapolis in 1975:  punchy, clear, melodically
rich, and no baloney.  But when I dragged Jimmy to hear their nine
o'clock set in the middle stage in the Grote Markt, the sound there was
unbearably distorted and loud, with nary a bass note creeping by the
clatter of the front line and the high end of the banjo.  

As most of you probably know, the festival has had its ups and downs
over the years, and there's a myth out there that the old concentration
on traditional jazz has evaporated.  From my perspective, the president
of the jazz club, Antoine Trommelen, and the professional manager,
Roland Kompier, did something that preserved the wonderful old kinkiness
and satisfied the lust for the young for a bustling bar scene.  They
kept the high-volume action to the tavern scene around the Grote Markt.
This left plenty of room --i.e. quiet streets with great echo -- in the
town center for the parade bands (I counted seven)(where else in the
world can you hear this?) and lots of odd and interesting venues, much
like Edinburgh.

For example, the "mirror tent", or "spiegeltent," was erected from
Victorian panels and tenting just for the Festival.  Set on the plain in
front of the Breda castle, it featured two-level seating and a quiet
setting for small groups.  What better place to hear Simon Stribling
(tpt) in his full range of emotion, Joop Pieders's (pno) doing his Slam
Stewart thing on Sunny Side of The Street, and the brilliantly subtle
Kobe Swing Band reviving rare Goodman stuff?

I realize as I write this that I'm leaving out two thirds of the
performances listed in the program.  For sure, it would have been easier
to navigate if the brochure had been translated into English.  But
Carolyn and I left satisfied (and she has little patience for either the
party scene or for mediocre Dixieland).  And, yes, sometimes the
proximity of the loud sounds meant special efforts had to be made, both
by the performers and by the audience.  For me, the one that worked most
effectively was when Butch played Willie the Lion's "Concentration" on
Saturday night on one of the little stages off the north end of the
Grote Markt.  It ended the struggle to concentrate on the music by the
band (the three of us plus Jack van Elewout on trombone and Arnold
Wildschoot on clarinet).  In spite of the pulsing electric bass from the
Cuban band in the Markt, you could have heard a pin drop.  If you were
listening.  And there was a knot of some 50 cognoscenti who were.  Maybe
you had to be there to appreciate what happened, but for me it was one
of the best festival moments, ever. 
Eli Newberger