Jazz is usually considered an urban art form (unless you want to talk about New Age stuff with pan pipes and pastoral faeries afloating but I’m not talking about that stuff). Urban jazz and what we think of when we think “jazz standards,” seems out of place and time in Arroyo Seco, a groovey little community that coagulated at the crook in the highway north of Taos.
Even still, jazz flowed and flourished like the garden that was just planted that day nearby surely will.
When I pulled up for the gig at Seco Pearl, a woman greeted me, saying the garden was just planted, the setting sun basking her in the leftover glow from the afternoon, the sprinklers spraying in silver arcs over the weedless earth behind her, the scent of wet loam seeping in as the shadows lengthened.
“This is my 47th garden,” she told me and I could see the pride and exhaustion in her sunburned face.
Inside the Pearl, my good friend, Raymond Blanchet, was getting set up for the opening night of his new jam sessions. He’s hosting the proceedings and has populated the players with his new students, acolytes to the high priest of real jazz in these parts.
I don’t know that anyone disputes Blanchet’s musicianship. It’s his grumpy façade that usually puts people off. I’ve heard him described as a troll or a black hole, and Blanchet will own up to either persona in a heartbeat. But the thing that really pisses people off is that he is usually right – at least when it comes to music, and often almost everything else. Believe me there’s nothing that will piss a person off more than calling them on their shit.
So he’s managed to put together this combo of “new to jazz” neophytes (and I have to say I was a little concerned that I was going to have to sing with this group when they got started).
I watched Blanchet bark out orders to the drummer and heard him drive the guitar player. I’ve heard this tune before with the numerous kids (and adults) he’s shaped. Many of them have gone on to be major players, like Lorca Hart, son of Billy Hart, who listed me on his resume as his first gig (La Cocina back in 1989) and called me a “torch singer.” I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be flattered or offended by the title. Still not quite sure.
So when I got up to sing, I was relieved when the combo finally hit their stride and were able to keep everything going even if it took both feet.
After the Jon Hendricks tune “Moaning,” finding the groove was a little like chasing a hamster around the room.
I was delighted, however, when Sambhu and Al Sutherland joined the combo. Blanchet slipped over to play the piano since the groove was in Sutherland’s able hands.
I’d love to be able to better hear Sambhu tasteful gypsy stylings but the combo is playing on funky equipment and the sound balance is not what it could be with time and resources. Still, I look forward to hearing more from this group.
The klatch of dreadlocked and sweet-faced children and granola dancers who came in from the night to hear this urban-kinda music – thank you for being open to the potential this little jazz scene could turn into.
I would encourage any singers out there to give Blanchet a call at 575-737-0854 and talk about songs and charts. Come on up. It’s happening.
Opening night of the Preservation of Jazz Jam series at Seco Pearl
Jazz is usually considered an urban art form (unless you want to talk about New Age stuff with pan pipes and pastoral faeries afloating but I’m not talking about that stuff). Urban jazz and what we think of when we think “jazz standards,” seems out of place and time in Arroyo Seco, a groovey little community that coagulated at the crook in the highway north of Taos.
Even still, jazz flowed and flourished like the garden that was just planted that day nearby surely will.
When I pulled up for the gig at Seco Pearl, a woman greeted me, saying the garden was just planted, the setting sun basking her in the leftover glow from the afternoon, the sprinklers spraying in silver arcs over the weedless earth behind her, the scent of wet loam seeping in as the shadows lengthened.
“This is my 47th garden,” she told me and I could see the pride and exhaustion in her sunburned face.
I don’t know that anyone disputes Blanchet’s musicianship. It’s his grumpy façade that usually puts people off. I’ve heard him described as a troll or a black hole, and Blanchet will own up to either persona in a heartbeat. But the thing that really pisses people off is that he is usually right – at least when it comes to music, and often almost everything else. Believe me there’s nothing that will piss a person off more than calling them on their shit.
So he’s managed to put together this combo of “new to jazz” neophytes (and I have to say I was a little concerned that I was going to have to sing with this group when they got started).
I watched Blanchet bark out orders to the drummer and heard him drive the guitar player. I’ve heard this tune before with the numerous kids (and adults) he’s shaped. Many of them have gone on to be major players, like Lorca Hart, son of Billy Hart, who listed me on his resume as his first gig (La Cocina back in 1989) and called me a “torch singer.” I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be flattered or offended by the title. Still not quite sure.
So when I got up to sing, I was relieved when the combo finally hit their stride and were able to keep everything going even if it took both feet.
After the Jon Hendricks tune “Moaning,” finding the groove was a little like chasing a hamster around the room.
I was delighted, however, when Sambhu and Al Sutherland joined the combo. Blanchet slipped over to play the piano since the groove was in Sutherland’s able hands.
The klatch of dreadlocked and sweet-faced children and granola dancers who came in from the night to hear this urban-kinda music – thank you for being open to the potential this little jazz scene could turn into.
I would encourage any singers out there to give Blanchet a call at 575-737-0854 and talk about songs and charts. Come on up. It’s happening.
This entry was posted on April 30, 2009 at 8:20 am and is filed under Taos Commentary, Taos Culture, The Taos Experience . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.