“We both share similar music philosophies when playing live music, in that as Jazz musicians, we have to listen to each other and dynamically create some music in the moment of performing and go off the chart. Its about taking risks – and that’s where the joy is.”
My intention for this short essay film was to create a pacey montage of archive footage, photographs, memorabilia and interviews with musicians and key personalities to reveal the unsung story of St Kilda’s significant contribution to Australia’s jazz history.
Following thousands of jazz events taking place in 195 countries around the world, International Jazz Day 2019 came to a thrilling closein Melbourne, Australia with an extraordinary All-Star Global Concert at Melbourne Arts Centre’s renowned Hamer Hall.
“It’s my aim to transport each audience to a bar in Montmatre, or a scene in a Truffaut movie for a short while!”
Hearing something you have written be brought to life by a group of exceptional performers is about the best experience you can have. It’s that joy that leads you to forget all the difficulties, which then enables you to start the process over again!
Denson and James sign five of the album’s twelve songs, all works of exemplary craftmanship that deserve a place in the Australian Jazz canon (if there is such a thing). My personal favourites are the upbeat ‘Wild December Wind’ and the introspective ‘Maybe Tomorrow’ (I’m a sucker for 3/4 tunes); both perfect vehicles for Ingrid James to showcase her ability to convey real, almost tangible, emotions. You can feel her voice embracing and caressing you.
– Which song reminds you of your most important rite of passage?
Ingrid James: One of the many rites of passage was Spain – both Chick Coreas and Al Jarreaus version. In my twenties, I hopped up on stage with a jazz band in West Berlin and sang it cold with them. That was a brave moment for me.’ Spain ‘wasnt just a normal standard at the time.
Upon first entering Bird’s Basement, I was immediately conscious of the crystalline sound of the piano, each unamplified note lingering in the space, untrammelled by its neighbours. The audience, in darkness, appeared hushed, as if intensely focused on the music: lyrical, melodic and restrained. As I was drawn into this music, I was conscious of its fragile delicacy, as Mark Isaacs mined the upper register, unafraid of summoning sheer beauty from his instrument.
“The guys in the band did such a great job of writing music to really bring Lionel Loueke into the group so he’s a fifth member as opposed to just a guest. I would have loved to be present in the studio just to watch the magic happen!”
I heard something of Miles’ ‘Big Fun’the first time I played I Hold the Lion’s Paw’s ‘Abstract Playgrounds’.There, in the opening track ‘(outtakes from the)’ is that same soupy mix, the same muddy rhythms, as if primeval matter, inchoate, is ever-so-slowly coalescing into form. There is an urgency and drama inherent in that opener, as it carefully leads the listener in: what directions this music will take is a wide-open question.
