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Gonzo Report: Working it out at Spacebar’s weekly jazz workshop
No ego detected, just high fives and smiles
The Jazz Workshop at Space Bar is downright saxy!
“There’s a lot going on in ‘Take Five’ that you miss until you try to play it,” saxophonist and teacher Dave Good tells me. He’s speaking of the jazz standard popularized by the Dave Brubeck Quartet in the ‘50s — standard for jazz people, at any rate. I know it from the 1981 Ralph Bakshi film American Pop. The song appeared on the soundtrack album, the second side of the vinyl following Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze,” and it was easier to just let the record play through. The tune still brings the film to mind, and it’s one of the few jazz pieces I can recognize immediately.
But I don’t have to be an aficionado to dig live music, especially when the sets take place in a venue as laid back as La Mesa’s Space Bar Cafe and Wine Bistro. But perhaps “sets” is too formal a descriptor for this, a jazz workshop that happens every Wednesday evening from seven to nine. My notion of the precise meaning of “workshop” proves to be a bit inaccurate, probably because of my lack of formal music training. The session is open to players of intermediate skill level and above, which means something beyond just knowing what notes correspond to what keys.
The musicians here tonight are working out solos with seasoned pros and lifelong educators. Taylor Smith and Horacio Mancilla provide the rhythm section for the house band on bass and drums, respectively. Outside of this venue, Professor Smith teaches at Cuyamaca College, while Mancilla is one of the most recognizable Spanish-speaking voice actors around. Both field my asinine jokes about bass players being failed guitarists and drummers delivering pizza with comebacks of their own. It’s a different story with 16-year-old clarinet player Gavin Lowry when I tell him I work for a newspaper and explain that it’s like the internet, but made of dead trees. He considers this for a moment, and then we move on to discussing why he’s here tonight. It seems he’s mostly just grateful that there’s somewhere young people under drinking age can go to hear live jazz and sit in.
A steady stream of patrons is filling the tables. They all echo Lowry’s sentiment: they’re happy to hear some jazz and eat some food minus the usual cover charge. The proprietor of the café is too busy filling orders to chat, and I’m happy for him. I’m even happier for me, thanks to my order of fish and fries and wings. Lightly battered cod and spicy wings tend to take up all my bandwidth, but what’s happening onstage is magnetic.
It’s early days since my initial dive into jazz, and the experience still leaves me a bit confounded, like my brain is failing to grasp an elusive concept. But even though its complexity stands in opposition to my punk rock simplicity, the live experience still works for me. I’m always awed by the mastery of the musicians in the room, and tonight is no exception. Here, it’s the alchemy, the witnessing of people “working it out” that enthralls me. Lowry’s clarinet solo sees him transformed from shy to possessed; it’s an intensity apparent only when a musician is in the zone. Guitarist Nathaniel Haslin’s time in the spotlight is controlled but emotive. It’s not that he’s holding back, it’s that he’s serving the song, choosing the right notes instead of a flurry of meaningless shred. They’re up there with pros, including Dr. Karen Childress-Evans on viola and keyboardist Yasha Susoeff of Deuterium Jazz Quartet. But it’s not like they’re trying to hold their own. It’s a pure learning experience, full of gentle encouragement. For all the talent onstage, I don’t detect a drop of ego or one-upping, just high fives and smiles.
One woman, Lisa Saxton, seems shy and a little unsure as she begins playing her sax, but as she plays, I can see her letting go, getting in the groove, nailing a solo. Later, my one-on-one interview with her shows me I was wrong about the shy part, and we have an extensive discussion about all things music. She shows me her favorite hoodie, the one with the cover for Slayer’s South of Heaven on the back. I ask her if she has ever attempted to play the trash titan’s songs on saxophone, and without missing a beat, she tells me that would be very hard. I dunno: at one point, there were a several sax players onstage, and I was reminded of Iron Maiden and Articles of Faith with their triple guitar attacks — but saxy!
There’s an attempt at “Take Five” toward the end of the night, and for me, it’s like hearing the song for the first time; what seemed like the off rhythms of the drum accents make more sense live. I think it sounds great, but Good stops the song, saying “It’s not happening.” Oh well. There’s always next week.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Gonzo Report: Working it out at Spacebar’s weekly jazz workshop
No ego detected, just high fives and smiles
Gonzo Report: Working it out at Spacebar’s weekly jazz workshop
No ego detected, just high fives and smiles
The Jazz Workshop at Space Bar is downright saxy!
“There’s a lot going on in ‘Take Five’ that you miss until you try to play it,” saxophonist and teacher Dave Good tells me. He’s speaking of the jazz standard popularized by the Dave Brubeck Quartet in the ‘50s — standard for jazz people, at any rate. I know it from the 1981 Ralph Bakshi film American Pop. The song appeared on the soundtrack album, the second side of the vinyl following Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze,” and it was easier to just let the record play through. The tune still brings the film to mind, and it’s one of the few jazz pieces I can recognize immediately.
But I don’t have to be an aficionado to dig live music, especially when the sets take place in a venue as laid back as La Mesa’s Space Bar Cafe and Wine Bistro. But perhaps “sets” is too formal a descriptor for this, a jazz workshop that happens every Wednesday evening from seven to nine. My notion of the precise meaning of “workshop” proves to be a bit inaccurate, probably because of my lack of formal music training. The session is open to players of intermediate skill level and above, which means something beyond just knowing what notes correspond to what keys.
The musicians here tonight are working out solos with seasoned pros and lifelong educators. Taylor Smith and Horacio Mancilla provide the rhythm section for the house band on bass and drums, respectively. Outside of this venue, Professor Smith teaches at Cuyamaca College, while Mancilla is one of the most recognizable Spanish-speaking voice actors around. Both field my asinine jokes about bass players being failed guitarists and drummers delivering pizza with comebacks of their own. It’s a different story with 16-year-old clarinet player Gavin Lowry when I tell him I work for a newspaper and explain that it’s like the internet, but made of dead trees. He considers this for a moment, and then we move on to discussing why he’s here tonight. It seems he’s mostly just grateful that there’s somewhere young people under drinking age can go to hear live jazz and sit in.
A steady stream of patrons is filling the tables. They all echo Lowry’s sentiment: they’re happy to hear some jazz and eat some food minus the usual cover charge. The proprietor of the café is too busy filling orders to chat, and I’m happy for him. I’m even happier for me, thanks to my order of fish and fries and wings. Lightly battered cod and spicy wings tend to take up all my bandwidth, but what’s happening onstage is magnetic.
It’s early days since my initial dive into jazz, and the experience still leaves me a bit confounded, like my brain is failing to grasp an elusive concept. But even though its complexity stands in opposition to my punk rock simplicity, the live experience still works for me. I’m always awed by the mastery of the musicians in the room, and tonight is no exception. Here, it’s the alchemy, the witnessing of people “working it out” that enthralls me. Lowry’s clarinet solo sees him transformed from shy to possessed; it’s an intensity apparent only when a musician is in the zone. Guitarist Nathaniel Haslin’s time in the spotlight is controlled but emotive. It’s not that he’s holding back, it’s that he’s serving the song, choosing the right notes instead of a flurry of meaningless shred. They’re up there with pros, including Dr. Karen Childress-Evans on viola and keyboardist Yasha Susoeff of Deuterium Jazz Quartet. But it’s not like they’re trying to hold their own. It’s a pure learning experience, full of gentle encouragement. For all the talent onstage, I don’t detect a drop of ego or one-upping, just high fives and smiles.
One woman, Lisa Saxton, seems shy and a little unsure as she begins playing her sax, but as she plays, I can see her letting go, getting in the groove, nailing a solo. Later, my one-on-one interview with her shows me I was wrong about the shy part, and we have an extensive discussion about all things music. She shows me her favorite hoodie, the one with the cover for Slayer’s South of Heaven on the back. I ask her if she has ever attempted to play the trash titan’s songs on saxophone, and without missing a beat, she tells me that would be very hard. I dunno: at one point, there were a several sax players onstage, and I was reminded of Iron Maiden and Articles of Faith with their triple guitar attacks — but saxy!
There’s an attempt at “Take Five” toward the end of the night, and for me, it’s like hearing the song for the first time; what seemed like the off rhythms of the drum accents make more sense live. I think it sounds great, but Good stops the song, saying “It’s not happening.” Oh well. There’s always next week.
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