Soirée Musique moving to Kojo Brown

Many of you will remember Louis Burty Bedeux who played melodica, clarinet and keys at the Leinster jams until a couple of years ago.

In August 2012, Louis initiated Soirée Musique, a monthly jam and open mic event featuring diverse music (including quite a bit of jazz) and held at Bar Oussou in Brunswick.

Attendances have always been very good, regularly attracting over 40 followers (in addition to Bar Oussou’s usual clientele).

The program has evolved into:
8-10pm Set program with invited artists backed by the house band, currently comprising Ann Craig (flute), Kevin Blazé (guitar), Tony Luxmoore (keys), Stan Van Hooft (bass), Paul Phillips (drums).
10pm-late Open mic. Artists provide their own live backing or use the house band, generally playing 10-minute spots.

A few months ago, Louis moved to Brisbane and the organising of the Soirée was taken over by Alan West. Then, a couple of weeks ago, Bar Oussou decided to move in other directions so we have been seeking a new home. About the same time, Alan West stepped down from the organiser’s role and it was taken over by Ann Craig and Kevin Blazé.

On Friday, 4 October, Soirée Musique will be moving to Kojo Brown, 294 Bridge Rd, Richmond (opposite Richmond Town Hall). The program commences at 8pm.

KB

From Noel:

Really appreciated the inclusion of the piece on Stan Getz  in recent newsletter.

I have just finished reading the book upon which it was based and wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone who is interested in learning more about this complex and troubled master musician.

Like Ross Russell’s “Bird Lives”, it should be required reading for anyone involved in our music….

To add to the understanding I attach some excerpts from the book “Jazz At Ronnie Scott’s” quoting Stan on Stan, and Ronnie Scott on Stan.

That is also a book worth reading, if you can find a copy….

Best wishes

More on Stan Getz from Noel

Excerpts from the book “Jazz At Ronnie Scott’s” by Kitty Grime: publishers Robert Hale London
Stan Getz: Ballads intrigue me. I let the mood do what it wants. I never intend to do anything, it just comes out as the piece dictates. You’ll notice that I never even close my eyes, but my mind is on the music. Everything comes from within, no images are conjured up that are based on what I see.

There are some ballads on which I don’t play anything but the melody – Lush Life” is one of those – the melody is so beautiful it says everything for me.

I rarely feed off another instrument in the group, because I never hear just a single piece in the rhythm section. I hear the entire underpinning; piano, bass and drums. When I improvise, I do it on top of them collectively, not individually. I subconsciously work on three levels simultaneously – my inner feelings, the tune and the rhythm section.

Ronnie Scott: During those moving, poignant ballads of his you could have heard a pin drop. And if anyone had dropped a pin, he’d have got a look from Stan’s baby-blue eyes which would have felled a polar bear.

 

The Sound – Stan Getz

The Sound, aka Stan Getz, was the man with the distinctive and beautiful tone.

 “Let’s face it—we’d all sound like that if we could.”  said John Coltrane.

The sound and the playing put him in top of the polls, yet his personal life was turbulent, marred by depression, alcohol and heroin addictions, and violent outbursts. In his book Stan Getz: A Life in Jazz Donald L. Maggin quotes saxophonist Zoot Sims as saying, “Yeah, Stan’s a nice bunch of guys.”

Born on February 2, 1927, and raised in the Bronx, Getz was a handsome, intelligent child who was drawn to music. He began playing harmonica, and in high school he progressed to bass, then bassoon, and demonstrated perfect pitch and a photographic memory. He acquired a beat-up alto saxophone in 1940, played local gigs and saved enough to buy a tenor. In 1943 he quit school and joined the band of trombonist Jack Teagarden which broke up in southern California where Getz settled.

In 1944 he joined the Stan Kenton band and, at eighteen, became its premiere soloist. . . . keep reading