[Dixielandjazz] New Venues?

[Stephen G Barbone]

Now here's a thought for those who would like to hear their kind of  
music. All you need is an audience of 40 to 50 people, paying a $20  
cover, to hire YOUR favorite band. A cover charge of $20 is NOTHING  
these days compared with the covers and/or minimums we used to pay 50  
years ago.


50 fans times $20 = $ 1000 and that's enough to pay for the band. So,  
here's some advice to those fans in California that complain about  
"their favorite band not being at Sacramento so they will not attend".  
Go find a large house (or retirement facility auditorium), get 50 fans  
like yourself, and hire "your" band for a couple of hours.

Do it once a month and you'll make the band very happy. <grin>

Cheers,
Steve Barbone
www.myspace.com/barbonestreetjazzband




Jazz Sessions That Evoke an Earlier Era

By AUSTIN CONSIDINE - NY Times - April 12, 2012

MOST times, the Sankofa Aban bed-and-breakfast is scarcely  
distinguishable from the other brownstones along the quiet, tree-lined  
streets of its historic part of Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. Only a  
tiny sign beside the stoop suggests the gorgeously restored 19th- 
century town house is not a private home.

But starting about 9 p.m. every Friday, something’s swinging in the  
parlor of 107 Macon Street. From the sidewalk, one can see dapper jazz  
musicians bounce and hear the thumping of a double bass. A singer does  
her best Billie Holiday just out of view; the piano is slightly —  
charmingly — out of tune.

Forget the high-priced clubs that long ago traded in their smoky glory  
to cater to out-of-towners. The weekly Brownstone Jazz concerts here  
are intimate affairs that recall a time when Harlem and Bedford- 
Stuyvesant house parties turned into all-night jams.

“In the evening hours, after a full week, you can get out somewhere  
and kick back with others while feeling at home, and listen,” said  
Debbie McClain, the owner, noting that the parlors of brownstones like  
hers were sometimes used as ballrooms in bygone days. “People gathered  
in elegance,” she said, adding, “We look to continue an old trend.”

The series has drawn some headlining names since it began in August  
2010, thanks partly to the efforts and connections of Eric Lemon, 53,  
an accomplished bassist who helped found the program and who leads the  
backup trio each Friday. Performers have included the saxophonist and  
Blue Note recording artist James Spaulding, the trombonist and  
euphonist Kiane Zawadi, and the singer Boncella Lewis.

The Brownstone Jazz series also draws from another old tradition: the  
Friday fish fry, included with the $20 cover. Proceeds go to the  
musicians and subsidize free music workshops offered during the week.

On a Friday night in early March, Lady Leah — a beautiful, softly  
graying singer in a form-fitting white blouse — performed for a mostly  
middle-aged crowd of about 40. The women wore slinky dresses, pearls  
and gold earrings; the men, collared shirts and coats, some wearing  
the nattiest of suits, rakishly tilted fedoras and bright silk  
handkerchiefs.

Once the main act had finished and the fish had been served, the band  
settled in for the night. Audience members joined impromptu sessions,  
wielding saxophones and trumpets, and Deborah Rollerson, a regular  
from Bushwick, seized the microphone. “Mostly I sing for the love of  
it,” she said, adding: “They’re very loving here. They treat my ego  
gently.”

Before it was an epicenter of hip-hop, Brooklyn had at least as many  
jazz sites as Manhattan, and most were in Bedford-Stuyvesant,  
according to research from the Lost Jazz Shrines project undertaken by  
the Weeksville Heritage Center in Crown Heights. Jazz greats like  
Eddie Heywood, George Russell and Lena Horne called Brooklyn home.

“In the ’60s, Bed-Stuy had about 20 clubs that were semi-major clubs,”  
Mr. Lemon said. “We’re talking about clubs that had Max Roach playing,  
clubs that had Hank Mobley playing, Miles Davis, right here on the  
corner.”

No longer. “What really got us going was that there’s no jazz in this  
community,” Mr. Lemon said. “We’re basically the last ones standing.”

On this Friday, the atmosphere was well behaved but by no means staid.  
When Lady Leah broke into a regendered blues classic, “I Want Big Fat  
Daddy,” the men laughed and the women erupted into a raucous singalong.

“This feels like a more intimate house, where people come to  
appreciate the music,” Lady Leah said, contrasting the scene with  
those at clubs where the music can be only a backdrop. “You’re not  
just incidental here.”