Jazz is NOW, then and now: Talking with Jeremy Walker and Bryan Nichols

Founded in 2003 by Jeremy Walker, launched with a performance by Wynton Marsalis and his quintet at the Brilliant Corners jazz club in St. Paul, Jazz is NOW! has been a sort of cousin to Jazz at Lincoln Center and SF Jazz: a presenting organization, a composers’ forum, an affiliation of improvising musicians. 

Jazz is NOW! supported a flexible jazz ensemble called the NOWnet, one of the few groups in the country dedicated to composing and performing new music. It had a board and a website (where you could listen to music, view videos and photos, read a blog, download scores, and check the calendar for upcoming performances), and it brought in guest artists including Wessell Anderson, Ted Nash, David Berkman, and Matt Wilson.

Jazz is NOW! and the NOWnet have been good things. I always thought the NOWnet should be the house band at the Walker Art Center, playing jazz for gallery openings and special events, fronting other bands that appeared in its annual performing arts series.

The NOWnet most recently performed in 2009. It has been on hiatus since Jeremy Walker moved to New York City in 2010. On Friday, fans and friends can see the group one final time, at the Loring Theater, in a performance aptly titled “The NOWnet’s Last Dance.” 

Guest artists Marcus Printup (of Jazz at Lincoln Center) and Wess “Warmdaddy” Anderson (the Wynton Marsalis Quintet) will join Jeremy Walker on piano, Chris Thomson on tenor sax, Jeff Brueske on bass, and JT Bates on drums for an evening of original music. Sometime during the evening, Walker will name pianost/composer Bryan Nichols the new Artistic Director of the organization.

We had a virtual sit-down via email.

Talking with jazz pianist and composer Bryan Nichols

Bryan Nichols by John Whiting

It’s a good time to be Bryan Nichols. Earlier this year, he won a prestigious McKnight Artist Fellowship for Performing Musicians. He’s about to go into the studio for his first two recordings as leader. He just bought a new piano, a Boston grand, replacing his ancient Steinway upright.

He has his own trio, quartet, quintet, and large group (called We Are Many) and plays in several other bands including Gang Font, Off the Map, the James Buckley Trio, and the Zacc Harris Quartet. Plus he and his wife, optometrist Marcie Nichols, are expecting their first child in July.

His quintet—Nichols on piano, Michael Lewis and Brandon Wozniak on saxophones, Eric Fratzke (stepping in for James Buckley) on bass, JT Bates on drums—will play the Artists’ Quarter in St. Paul this weekend. We spoke about music and musicians, McKnights and composing.

PLE: Why a quintet?

Bryan Nichols: One of the things I love about music is the social aspect. I like the possibilities of having more musicians, more interaction. We’d been playing as a quartet with a mixed cast—[saxophonists] Mike Lewis or Brandon Wozniak, [bassists] Adam Linz or James Buckley, [drummers] JT Bates or sometimes Sean Carey. Brandon and Mike have such interesting individual styles and musical approaches that I thought, maybe I should try to get both of them when they’re in town. So that solidified the concept. It offers opportunities for things to happen that wouldn’t otherwise. And if someone’s gone—if Mike is out with [Andrew] Bird or Brandon’s gone with the Dave King Trucking Company—we can do a quartet.

Jazz concert review: Kendra Shank at the Artists’ Quarter

When: July 9, 2010 • Where: Artists' Quarter • Who: Kendra Shank, voice; Bryan Nichols, piano; Terry Burns, bass; Phil Hey, drums

There are good nights in jazz, and okay nights, and off nights, and then there are great nights when the unexpected happens and you almost forget to breathe.

Last night at the AQ was one of the great nights. Not because we were in a giant venue in a crowd of thousands with a jazz legend—someone like Sonny Rollins, which these days is kind of like seeing God Almighty play saxophone. We were in a small basement jazz club in St. Paul, where a jazz singer from New York named Kendra Shank has a two-night engagement with three area musicians, two of whom she has played with before (ten years ago) and one she met and rehearsed with briefly for the first time on Friday afternoon, only hours before the first set.

Shank is a fearless improviser and interpreter, which is important to know. She usually performs with her own quartet (also important to know), musicians with whom she has built an intimate relationship over many years: pianist Frank Kimbrough, bassist Dean Johnson, and drummer Tony Moreno. On this tour, the second half of a tour for her most recent release, Mosaic (Challenge, 2010), she’s traveling solo, as many artists do in this economy, working with artists recommended by club owners or friends along the way.

For her AQ dates, Shank is playing with pianist Bryan Nichols, bassist Terry Burns, and drummer Phil Hey. Shank and Nichols are new to each other. While any musician in a group this size can make or break a show, much of the conversation happens between voice and piano. What kind of conversation will it be? Will the two be equals? Will the voice make room for the piano, and the piano make room for the voice? Will they soar and inspire each other or simply get along?

From the first moments of the first song, Cole Porter’s “All of You,” something happens between Shank and Nichols. Then all four leap off a cliff together with “Incantation/Throw It Away,” a blend of Shank’s improvised introduction and the Abbey Lincoln song. 

“Incantation” is a mix of vocal clicks and aahs, ticka-ticks and soft whoops—not the usual scat sounds/syllables—that Shank later explains is her own private language, “whatever comes through the channels on a given night.” Just try playing along with that. In fact, Nichols, Burns, and Hey know exactly what to do. Nichols is the perfect partner, his own improvisations equally thrilling. Burns lays down a flawless rhythm. Hey drums with the flats of his hands, a soft, sensuous accompaniment. It’s glorious, and as the song unfolds, they all become aware of what they’re creating in this moment. It’s as if lights go on over their heads, and within their faces.

Afterward, Shank describes this rare and wonderful thing as “the universal language of jazz—the coming together.” The rest of the set stays at the same dizzying height: “I’m Movin’ On” (during which Burns plays a lovely solo); “Reflections in Blue/Blue Skies,” a completely different take on the old tune, rhythmically and emotionally, thanks to Shank’s searingly personal introduction (“Blue was the color of his eyes, on the day he left me…Then you came in view…No more good-byes…Just blue skies, smiling at me”). A song about hope, written by Kimbrough; “How Deep Is the Ocean,” with a lively improvised ending; a sweet, swinging “Blue Monk,” with Abbey Lincoln’s lyrics; and finally Shank’s passionate, powerful reading of “Black Is the Color of My True Love’s Hair,” which can stand proudly beside Nina Simone’s.

Midway, between songs, when everyone is all smiles, Shank says, “I’m in love. I might have to move to St. Paul. I’m in love with these men!” We are, too, and also with you. Kendra. What an exciting, exceptional evening, and it could only happen live.

Photo of Kendra Shank and Terry Burns by John Whiting.

A night of new music at MacPhail: The Bryan Nichols Trio and the Paul Renz Quintet

When: Saturday, January 23, 2010 • Where: Antonello Hall, MacPhail Center for Music • What: MacPhail’s Spotlight Series, featuring members of its teaching faculty; this was “Jazz Innovations” night

First set: The Bryan Nichols Trio
Bryan Nichols, piano; Adam Linz, bass; JT Bates, drums



When pianist/composer Bryan Nichols told me that his upcoming performance at MacPhail would consist of all-new music written the week before and rehearsed only once, I was more excited than skeptical. I’ve heard Nichols and the other members of his trio—Adam Linz on bass, JT Bates on drums—often enough that I know to trust them. Pretty much anything they do is interesting, much of it deeply interesting, whether they’re playing ensemble or taking solos.

I expected to like the music; I loved the music. Five selections, the first four untitled. “Song 1” was a perfect opener, a warm and welcoming piece in which Linz literally leaped into his first solo, playing a rapid series of low-to-high notes on his bass and rising to his toes. Not an in-your-face piece, but an invitation to sit back and enjoy.

“Song 2” began with mallets on drums, a solo that went from soft booms to sticks on rims and a moment during which JT seemed to be squeezing the snare drum head. This one was freer, edgier, wilder. More like what I originally expected, though “Song 1” had already taught me the futility of prediction. We were in for more surprises.

“Song 3” started with Nichols playing what sounded like a very old tune, something Bill Carrothers might play. Sweet and nostalgic, it took a sharp left into swing, with Linz walking the bass. Fierce drumming by JT brought it up to the present and kicked it into the future.

“Song 4” was the most traditionally structured piano-trio tune: Linz and Bates playing rhythm, Nichols chording with his left hand and exploring the keys with his right. Enjoyable hard bop, with band members trading eights.

The fifth and final selection had a title, “Stories about Stories,” which Nichols explained was inspired by the tales jazz musicians enjoy telling. A tune in the once crazy, now lilting 5/4 rhythm (thanks, Lisa Meyer, for pointing that out). Moody, lovely, and reflective, like the big floor-to-ceiling windows in front of which the band was playing. The curtain was open for this event, revealing the glories of the Antonello’s glass.

Throughout the set, the music was intriguing, engaging, sure-footed, and pleasing to a large crowd that included families with children.

Aside: Bryan Nichols on playing with Fat Kid Wednesdays

Nichols’ new groups feature members of Fat Kid Wednesdays (his quartet includes all three—Linz, Bates, and saxophonist Michael Lewis) but none of them sounds like Fat-Kids-plus-piano. Like The Bad Plus, Fat Kids is not a group whose members are interchangeable. It’s a unit, one piece, and formidable.

Here’s what Nichols said recently about this trio and his quartet:

“JT and Adam and I love playing trio, but that’s never been something we have pursued intensely. It just happens every now and then, and we really enjoy it. It’s been happening since I was 17. It’s a really fun group….

“The quartet right now will be 95 percent my songs. That’s one of the biggest differences between that and Fat Kids itself. They have a couple of originals, but for the most part they’re not a band that’s deeply concerned with playing original music. Which I totally dig, because the way they deconstruct standards or free tunes or whatever is amazing. They take stuff and make it their own in a cool way. But if I went and decided to do that same mix…. That’s not what I want to do. I don’t want to just hire them and then copy exactly what they do. I don’t want to insert myself into Fat Kid Wednesdays.”

I mentioned that I had been at the quartet’s debut in late December at the Dakota and remembered thinking how tough it would be to make a dent in Fat Kids. Nichols laughed and said, “They’re guys I play with all the time, guys I’ve grown up both listening to and playing with…. I’ve been talking about putting together a regular group for quite a while now. I’ve been back in town for four years, doing various pick-up groups, because one of the things about here I really like is I can play with a ton of different people. It’s tough to limit myself [to hiring certain people and not others]. There are all these great players. This town is a special town. For a place its size, it’s impressive….

“The fun thing about playing with [Lewis, Linz, and Bates] is not only do they have this deep connection to all the music I do, not only do they have the same reference points as far as growing up in a similar place and playing a lot of different music, but they all obviously have huge ears, they’re great listeners, they have a ton of energy, so I can take anything and bring it in there and it’s given a new life. Most of the material we’re playing is new anyway, but it becomes extra new….

“Those guys have a really intense and idiosyncratic and impressive thing themselves, and I love it, but just because I know them so well personally and musically, I don’t want to feel intimidated by them. And on one level I do, because they’re my favorite band to listen to. If I have to pick a jazz group in town to listen to, it’s them and Happy Apple, obviously. On that level, I’m impressed and intimidated constantly by what they can do, and the interaction, but on a level of ‘Can I play with them?’ the answer is ‘Absolutely.’”

Second set: The Paul Renz Quintet
Paul Renz, guitar; Andrew Schwandt, tenor sax; Brian Ziemniak, piano; Eric Graham, bass; Nathan Fryett, drums



The music Renz and his quintet played was not quite as new as Nichols’; all of the tunes were released a few months ago on Renz’ latest CD, In My Own Hands. All were written by Renz. I like the CD very much but hadn’t listened to it since December, when I included it in a list of holiday gift possibilities.

It was good to hear several of the tunes played live, with more room for the individual artists to stretch out—on the loose and funky “Take It Home,” for example. I enjoyed seeing Graham and Schwandt play, though I kept imagining Schwandt sharing the stage with Brandon Wozniak, another tall saxophonist (they could do it, too, now that Wozniak has switched from tenor to alto, at least when playing with the Atlantis Quartet). But while Renz’s guitar and Graham’s fretless electric bass were amped, Ziemniak was on his own with acoustic piano. The Antonello’s gorgeous Steinway couldn’t stand up to the amps. Much of the piano was lost—even where we were sitting, in the center of the front row. Ditto for Fryett's drumming. Schwandt usually played toward the front of the stage, near a mic, so we heard his saxophone clearly (but later learned that people seated further back weren't so lucky). The acoustics in Antonello can be pristine, but when some instruments are amped and others aren't, they need a little help.

Photos by John Whiting

Ramsey Lewis at Orchestra Hall: Concert review

When: Thursday, Aug. 13, 2009 • Where: Orchestra Hall • Who: Ramsey Lewis, piano; Larry Gray, bass; Leon Joyce Jr., drums. Opening set: Bruce Henry, vocals; Peter Vircks, saxophone; Bryan Nichols, piano; Chris Bates, bass; Daryl Boudreaux, percussion; Kevin Washington, drums. Host Irvin Mayfield.

Last night’s program at Orchestra Hall was billed as being all about the blues. It wasn’t, but nobody cared. Instead, the audience was treated to a sublime set of music by the Ramsey Lewis Trio.

Anyone who thinks this group is about resting on laurels, delivering hits, and playing it safe is mistaken. The music was as rich and sophisticated, melodic and complex, inside and out there as any I’ve heard in a long time.

The opener, “Wade in the Water,” became a sweet samba, with Joyce stroking his drums with his hands. The crowd applauded wildly and Lewis joked, “Shall we quit while we’re ahead?”

At 74, Lewis has embarked on what is almost a new career, or at least a new passion: composing. A series of commissions for the Joffrey Ballet and the Ravinia Festival, where Lewis serves as artistic director for jazz, has made him feel “like a kid on Christmas morning.” His new CD, Songs from the Heart, due out on Concord on Sept. 29, is his first-ever (out of 80 to date) to include all original compositions.

We heard “To Know Her Is to Love Her” (from the Joffrey work) and “Conversation,” written for Ravinia and performed there in 2008 by the Turtle Island String Quartet. The latter made me hold my breath, it was so beautiful—and much like a conversation, perhaps between lovers, with changes in mood and tempo. Another original, “Exhilaration,” showcased Gray on the bass, bowing like a classical master, plucking and tapping like an avant-garder. We heard a lot of arco (bowed) bass during the evening; Gray used his bow almost as much as he used his fingers.

Throughout, Lewis made occasional references to the blues, inviting us to “find where it is” in the music he was playing, reminding us that jazz was born in the blues. For the centerpiece of the set, he took us back to before the blues with a medley of gospel tunes and spirituals. Not the usual play-a-few-notes, awkward-pause, switch-tunes medley, but a lengthy, elegantly constructed series of phrases, whole songs, and variations within songs, linked together by improvisation, like pearls on a string. Between selections, as Lewis moved his fingers over the keys, you could almost hear him thinking “What next?”

I recognized “Just a Closer Walk with Thee,” “Precious Lord,” Ellington’s “Come Sunday,” “How Great Thou Art,” and (I think) “Lift Ev’ry Voice.” Lewis and Joyce traded melodic phrases (Joyce played notes on his drums, with help from his elbows) on the way to Joyce’s big solo of the night, a breathtaking display of speed, invention, and precision.

Except for the originals, much of this was music many of us had heard before, made new by surprising changes and phrases, rhythms and transitions. People talked afterward about how modern it was, how “outside,” and how it wasn’t what they expected.

We got the encore everyone wanted: “The ‘In’ Crowd.” A soft and lovely solo piano introduction worked its way there, the familiar chords burst forth, and the audience loved it. Joyce’s whistle midway through signaled a detour into an Afro-Cuban tempo.

If you’re going to have a huge hit, make it a good one, like “The ‘In’ Crowd” or “Take Five” or "Poinciana," and don’t get stuck singing “Muskrat Love” for the rest of your life.

For the last song of the night, Lewis finally gave us a classic blues tune: Jimmy Reed’s “Baby What You Want Me to Do.” (Hat tip to Dan Emerson for the title.) Which, as it happens, appears on Lewis's first-ever live album, Ramsey Lewis Live at the Savoy (1982).

A note on where we sat: We moved during intermission from a row midway down the main floor to empty seats on Tier B looking down at the stage. With help from my handy binocs, I could see everything: how Leon Joyce reached casually over his right shoulder to tap the inverted cymbal to his right, Larry Gray pressing the strings of his bass, the red felt lightning bolts inside the Steinway, Lewis’s hands on the keys. I thought the sound was better, too—it rose up to us from the monitors and the instruments themselves, rather than passing over and between hundreds of people

And I have to say that Lewis, Gray, and Joyce looked good. I mean really good All three were impeccably attired. Their posture was perfect, their stage presence professional. Handsome men. Lewis, the legend, great statesman of jazz, is 74? Don’t believe it. Skin like a baby.

Ramsey Lewis Trio Setlist
"Wade in the Water"
"To Know Her Is to Love Her"
"Conversation"
"Exhilaration"
"Spiritual Medley"
"The 'In' Crowd"
"Baby What You Want Me to Do"

Starting what I hope will be a regular thing at OH jazz shows, the evening began with an opening set by area musicians, led by soulful vocalist Bruce Henry, who now lives in Chicago but was here long enough to become part of our music scene (plus we’re not willing to let him go).

He and his band brought out the big crowd-pleasers: “Statesboro Blues” (“Wake up, mama, turn your lamp down low”), a lovely “Embraceable You” (nice solo, Chris), Henry’s composition “Jump That Broom,” and “House of the Rising Sun,” which Henry said he was inspired to sing by Nina Simone.

They were given half an hour—not long enough, even though Lewis and his trio were up next.

After last night’s “Broom,” Boudreaux needs a new washboard; he broke a leg on the one he had.

Chris Morrissey Quartet at the Artists' Quarter: Concert review

When: August 1 2009 • Where: Artists’ Quarter • Who: Chris Morrissey, bass; Michael Lewis, saxophones; Bryan Nichols, piano; Dave King, drums

Because I don’t follow indie rock, I don’t know Chris Morrissey the indie rocker, whose bands include Ben Kweller, Mason Jennings, the Bill-Mike Band, Wishbook (formerly Cowboy Curtis), and Haley Bonar. I first heard of Chris Morrissey the jazz musician/composer last July when HH and I went to Maude because Dave King was playing there with Chris Thomson, Bryan Nichols, and some guy named Chris Morrissey. Who turned out to be a tall, rather thin young man with long, elegant fingers who plays the bass like he’s serious about jazz. In fact, he calls jazz his “original passion.”

Back then the quartet was in the midst of recording a CD, and this weekend was the official Minneapolis/St. Paul CD release for The Morning World, just out on Sunnyside, not too shabby. Morrissey is from here, recently moved to NYC to “get another city under his belt,” came home to launch his CD and promises to return one day to live. We’ll see.

At the crowded AQ, we hear originals by Morrissey and just one standard. Something slow and measured to start; probably “The Skinny Part of Idaho.” “Midland Picnic Area,” which Morrissey introduces as “a tribute to a part of the country without a lot of songs written about it," is a high-energy piece that Nichols takes even higher with his piano solo, after which Lewis plays like a man possessed and King is two drummers or maybe three, and suddenly the air sparks and crackles with swing.

“The Morning World Is Waiting,” the title track, pulls the tempo back again so everyone can breathe. It’s a bright-eyed ballad, pretty and sweet.

The tunes are on the short side, like pop songs. The melodies aren’t familiar so it’s easy to think there’s a lot of improvising going on amid skeletal composition until you notice that Morrissey and Nichols, or Lewis and Nichols, are playing long runs of notes in unison. The music is tightly composed, compact, intricate, with room for invention.

“October Aught Four” starts off unhurried and thoughtful, then picks up speed and intensity. It feels sunny, optimistic. “Electric Blanket” is full of big chords and brand-new. “We learned it yesterday and played the world premiere” [at last night’s AQ show], Morrissey says. “This is the second world premiere.”

He introduces “The Curious Habits of Harold Hill” by telling us that he played the part of Winthrop in the Chanhassen Dinner Theater’s production of The Music Man “when I was young.” (Everyone laughs; he’s 28.) His father was Chanhassen’s music director. The tune is layers of repeated rhythm—first in eight pairs (da-da, da-da), then six—over which Lewis’s saxophone floats and soars. Most tunes seem to feature the saxophone, though that could be an illusion caused by the fact that Nichols, Morrissey, and King all stay in the same place while Lewis paces the rest of the stage, always on the move, so that’s where your eyes naturally go.

[Aside: While King is playing with the Morrissey Quartet at the AQ, the other two members of his band The Bad Plus are at the Village Vanguard, with Paul Motian on drums. Read Nate Chinen's review here.]

For “None is the Number,” Lewis starts on soprano sax (he plays soprano, alto, and tenor tonight) and Morrissey takes his first solo on the bass, accompanied by Nichols. This is the only tune of the night that sounds heavily influenced by Reid Anderson of The Bad Plus, not that I’m complaining.

Introducing “Mountain Don’t,” Morrissey tells us a story from his childhood, when he looked up to Lewis as the coolest guy he knew. (The two grew up together; their moms are friends and both are in the house tonight.) Trying to impress Lewis, Morrissey told him he drank Mountain Dew. Lewis replied “Mountain don’t, man,” and a song was born. “I wrote it ten years ago,” Morrissey says. Not bad for 18. The first half swings hard, Morrissey takes another solo, then there’s a sudden shift into a slow, thoughtful mood, as if another tune has been grafted on. Nichols spells out an old-fashioned melody, Morrissey bows his bass, King switches to brushes and now it’s something Bill Carrothers might play. (Carrothers, as it happens, is sitting at the bar.)

“The Sub Prime Sword Claims Another,” sharp and angular, gives way to “Take the Coltrane,” the one standard of the evening. Everyone stretches out in a lengthy solo—including King, in his first solo of the night—and it’s as jazzy as anything ever has been.

[For City Pages, Andrea Swensson wrote: "What blew me away at Saturday night's show was how each of the four players' talents were showcased without ever drawing too much attention toward one musician... Because of this, Morrissey's compositions themselves became the star of the show." What she said.]

“If Rushmore Should Fall” is the last tune on the CD and the end of the show. Starting out gloomy-doomy on arco bass and piano chords, with Lewis playing questions on the saxophone, it picks up speed and volume, has second thoughts, and sighs. Called back for an encore, Morrissey says, “That’s all the songs we know.”

There's a feeling all night that we're hearing something special and new, something that can go places. It's hard to make a full-time commitment to jazz these days, especially when, like Morrissey (and now Lewis, who has been playing with Andrew Bird), you're in demand by rock bands that draw bigger crowds and paychecks and can tour. So it's understandable that Morrissey is playing this Saturday (at Tiffany's in St. Paul) with Wishbook and the Bill-Mike Band, and will soon go out again with Kweller and then Jennings.

But I hope The Morning World isn't a one-off. Jazz needs people like Morrissey, who can move between genres with confidence and sincerity, commitment and joy, without compromising.

Photos by John Whiting. T to B: Morrissey, Lewis and Morrissey, Nichols, King

Jazz jam, with Wynton

When: Saturday, March 7 • Where: Dakota

The Dakota jazz club and Orchestra Hall, home of the Minnesota Orchestra, have been in close geographical proximity since the Dakota moved from St. Paul to Minneapolis in late 2003, but they never had a relationship until Lilly Schwartz became the Orchestra’s director of pops and special projects. Ever since, artists performing at Orchestra Hall have made their way to the Dakota after shows to dine in the club’s restaurant and sometimes perform on its stage. So when the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra came to town, it was a given that at least some of the band members would stop by on Friday or Saturday, maybe both. And it was hoped that some of them would jam with the excellent trio hired for the late-night shows: pianist Bryan Nichols, bassist Adam Linz, drummer J.T. Bates.

We weren’t able to go to the late-night on Friday but heard later that trumpeter Sean Jones and other JLCO members performed—and that a local musician had engaged Jones in a cutting contest. As they say, poor bastard, and I don’t mean Jones.

We were there on Saturday and it was one for the jazz history books. We knew when Wynton Marsalis came into the club—everyone knew—but didn’t expect him to play. Then he stepped on stage and joined Nichols, Linz, and Bates for the first tune. When he stepped down, we thought that was all we would hear from him. More JLCO members played—bassist Carlos Henriquez, drummer Ali Jackson, trumpeters Freddie Hendrix and Ryan Kisor. Then the trio took a break, after which Marsalis returned with his own trio: pianist Dan Nimmer, Henriquez, Jackson.



For the next 20 minutes or so, the Dakota was the Village Vanguard, Blues Alley, and the House of Tribes. By now it was SRO—word had gotten out—and it was thrilling to be there. The last time Marsalis played a small club in the Twin Cities was October 2003, at the now-defunct Brilliant Corners in St. Paul. Tickets were $45. The Dakota charges $5 for its late-night sets. People who walked in off the street on Saturday out of curiosity, or because they had heard the Dakota had a late-night scene and wanted to check it out, got more than a bargain. They got a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

When the quartet finished, the jam didn’t end. Saxophonist Michael Lewis, home on break from his tour with Andrew Bird, came through the curtain and played a tune; so did saxophonist Chris Thomson. Drummer Kevin Washington took over for J.T. toward the end and filled the air with thunder. Marsalis stood by the side of the stage, nodding and smiling.



See also my Arts Arena post on MinnPost.com.
Photos by John Whiting. Top to bottom: Wynton Marsalis; Nimmer, Henriquez, Marsalis, Jackson; Nichols, Linz, Lewis, Washington, Thomson.

P.S. I asked Jeremy Walker, former proprietor of Brilliant Corners, what Marsalis and his group played during their set. His answer: "I believe it is a suite of tunes called 'The Magic Hour.' I know he played some of the material at Brilliant Corners way back when. If I remember right, it is a suite about getting the kids to bed so you can have quiet time with the special person in your life."

Connie Evingson at the Bloomington Jazz Festival

When: Sunday, August 10, 2008 • Where: Bloomington Jazz Festival (Normandale Lake Bandshell) • Who: Connie Evingson, voice; Bryan Nichols, piano; Dave Karr, saxophones, flute, and clarinet; Terry Burns, bass; Jay Epstein, drums

When I previewed this festival for MinnPost, I hoped to attend more than just Connie's set but that's all we could do. It turned out to be a perfect start to the evening: beautiful location, lovely weather, and a fine set from the singer and her band. "Nature Boy," "some Peggy Lee songs ("I Don't Know Enough About You," "Gone Fishin'"), Toots Thieleman's "Bluesette," an arrangement Connie did with Dave Karr blending "I Love Paris in the Springtime" with "It's All Right with Me," selections from her recent CD with Dave Frishberg including "Peel Me a Grape" and "My Attorney Bernie," tunes from her Swedish Hot Club CD, "Comes Love" with Karr on clarinet. Kids were running around and dancing in front of the stage. Some people in the audience were attentive, some not so much. It was Carmen's first jazz festival and she seemed to like it.


Photo of Carmen the wiener dog by Andrea Canter.

Rossum Electric Company

When: Saturday, July 27, 2008 • Where: Dakota • Who: Kelly Rossum, trumpet and electronics; Bryan Nichols, keyboards; Ryan Olcott, electronics and circuit-bending; Tim Glenn, drums and percussion

When I talk with Kelly the week before this late-night show (for a MinnPost preview), he's not yet sure what it will be. "The trumpet won't sound like a trumpet, and the piano won't sound like a piano," he says. And the music will be...? "Not outside, just over there."

He explains that "circuit-bending is a technique where you physically alter an instrument. For example, you might take an old Casio keyboard, pop the top and rewire the circuitry." Craig Taborn does this, too, but until now I had no clue what it meant.

Turns out the Rossum Electric Company isn't a new band but a revival. "Back in 1998," he says, "I played a gig with a band called the Rossum Electric Company at the Clown Night, subbing one night when JT [Bates] was out of town." He also plays his "electrumpet" for Electropolis.



Tonight's first set is an hour long, without interruption. I strap in and hold on. The second set is shorter and also satisfying. As with any set involving a lot of electronics, there's a lot of pedal-pushing and dial-turning and button-adjusting, with wires snaking everywhere onstage. I can't always tell which sounds are coming from which instrument but I don't much care. The sound is good, the vibe is good, we're all having a good time. A quote from "Caravan" floats by, and other bits and pieces of tunes I think I recognize but can't name. Something reminds me of Miles Davis's "Tutu."

Not outside, just over there.

Photos by John Whiting. Aieeeee, the neon sign! A dimmer, we're told, is imminent.

Bruce Henry at the Dakota: Concert review

When: 4/4/08
Where: Dakota
Who: Bruce Henry (voice), Peter Vircks (tenor sax), Bryan Nichols (piano), Chris Bates (bass), Daryl Boudreaux (percussion), Wendell Henry (drums)

We're seeing Bruce Henry as often as we can before he moves to Chicago. Tonight he's in fine form, dressed to the nines, accompanied by an excellent band, singing his heart out, bantering with the open-curtain Friday-night crowd, and happy to be in this elegant club ("People talk about this place all over the world," he later says).



We don't hear "Nature Boy" or "Afro Blue," two of his signature songs, but we do hear others Henry has made his own: "House of the Rising Sun," Chick Corea's "Spain" (with lyrics by Al Jarreau), the original "Africa Cries."

As many times as I've heard Henry sing "House of the Rising Sun," it has never been the same. It depends on his band, his mood, the crowd, the weather, maybe the way the planets are aligned. Tonight it's new again—partly because Henry sings as if it is, partly because each note from Nichols's piano is a surprise.



We hear "Autumn Leaves," Horace Silver's "Senor Blues," and "In the Beginning God" from Duke Ellington's Sacred Concert ("a seldom heard song unless you come to my shows," Henry says).

He tells us about growing up on Madison Street in Chicago, home of the blues; how all of the big blues singers had "imposters" (Little Little Milton, Little James Brown;) how he once saw the real Muddy Waters get out of his car and go into a club and tried to follow him in. "I'm not a blues singer, but I've got the blues aesthetic," Henry says, then launches into the blues standard "Sweet Home Chicago."

More Horace Silver, this time "All," a song Henry got from Dean Brewington, "the first person I met in the state of Minnesota." The lyrics (also by Silver) seem especially appropriate for Henry: "All time is now/all space is near/all minds relate/all souls evolve...all things are spirit/all is in mind." His performances are engaging and entertaining, but they're also deeply spiritual if you're willing to let that part reach out and touch you.

African American history is important to Henry. "Every day of my life, I celebrate African American History Month," he says. Then he sings an original song, "Jump That Broom," based on genealogical research he did on his own family, including a great-great grandfather who loved his about-to-be great-great grandmother so much that he bundled his clothes on top of his head and swam across a lake to court her. Boudreaux plays the washboard and it's joyous.



Henry closes out the night with a song for Martin Luther King Jr., who died on this day 40 years ago. Rather than a sad song, he gives us "a song about freedom and justice and peace all around the world." I don't know the name but here are some lyrics: "It's a party/it's a freedom party/raise your victory sign!" He ends by wishing us peace and love. There's no encore; we don't need one.

A few about the band: I hadn't heard Nichols and Bates play with Henry before but you can't go wrong with either one. Boudreaux has always seemed like Henry's own hands on the percussion, a natural fit; as Henry said earlier in the show, "We go way black, I mean back," then laughed. I've heard Wendell Henry play drums for Bruce Henry but never for anyone else. I'm guessing he'll show up at the Freedom Train benefit concert on April 19? (For more about that, see Andrea Canter's preview on Jazz Police.)



Vircks was new to me but I have since learned (thank you, Jazz Police and the Internets) that he's part of Moveable Feast, the Rhythm Junkies, and other bands around town. I thought he got off to a slow start but picked up the pace later in the show. Good, strong sound.



Photos by John Whiting.

Winter Jazz Fest: Chris Thomson's Bells + Whistles

When: 3/2/08
Where: MacPhail Center for Music
Who: Chris Thomson (saxophones), Bryan Nichols (piano), Adam Linz (bass), Alden Ikeda (drums)

At 5 p.m. on the day of the Winter Jazz Fest, I left the Dakota Foundation table in good hands and went back up to MacPhail's sixth floor to see Bells + Whistles, one of Chris Thomson's many groups. Knowing who was in it, I expected it to be wild. But every time I see Thomson, he surprises me, and this was no different. Bells + Whistles plays lyrical, dreamy straight-ahead jazz. Beautiful!

Top to bottom: Thomson, Nichols, Linz, Ikeda

Kelly Rossum Quartet

When: 2/23/08
Where: Artists' Quarter
Who: Kelly Rossum (trumpet), Bryan Nichols (piano), Chris Bates (bass), J.T. Bates (drums)

In late February through mid-March, if you don't want to see Kelly Rossum, stay home. Starting with his quartet's two-day stay at the AQ, he's everywhere: performing with the MacPhail Jazz Faculty, with Ellen Lease and Pat Moriarty, running around (but not, I think, performing at) the Winter Jazz Festival, with Woody Witt at the Dakota, with the Jazz is NOW! NOWnet.

This is a great night at the AQ. Davis is at the door, the crowd is mostly attentive, and the music is as good as you'll hear anywhere and better than you'll hear in most places. See for yourself in this video taken by Don Berryman, newly rendered in high definition by YouTube. We were sitting with Don and Beverly so this is pretty much the same thing we saw and heard.



Also on the program: "Fly Away," "Seduction," a funky "Lead Soldiers," "La Vita a Roma," Nichols' "A Word from Our Sponsors" (with a big, bad solo by Chris Bates), "Majestic, Mighty Monarch of the Air," and two tunes from the not-yet-released Family, recorded by this quartet: "After the Snow" and the title track. Much of it was mellow and all of it was good.

Rossum is one of the few artists who regularly updates the performance schedule on his Web site.

Top to bottom: Kelly Rossum, Bryan Nichols. Photos by John Whiting.

Cafe Maude: Unlikely venue offers serious jazz on menu

Originally published on MinnPost.com, January 4, 2008

On a Friday night in early December, I stood at the bar at Café Maude waiting for a table. People were crammed three-deep around it, clutching their cocktails and jostling each other and eyeing those lucky enough to be seated.

Across the room on a small stage beneath a large painting by local artist Stuart Loughridge, two musicians were playing some serious jazz. I could barely hear them through the din. They weren't just any two musicians or the kind whose names you'd normally read on a restaurant chalkboard.

By the time we scored a table, the crowd had thinned enough that we could follow Michael Lewis on the tenor saxophone and pianist Bryan Nichols in their complex, rhythmic dance of melody and improvisation.

Lewis's other bands include Happy Apple and Fat Kid Wednesdays, among the most innovative jazz groups around. Nichols teaches at MacPhail, has performed at the Kennedy Center and is part of Kelly Rossum's working quartet. Neither is background music material. And their performance was about as far from smooth jazz as you can get without a passport.

Jazz on the menu

Since the doors opened last summer at this hot new bistro in southwest Minneapolis, owner Kevin Sheehy has been committed to serving good music along with very good food. Stroll in almost any night and you'll hear something interesting: music played or selected by DJ Howard Hamilton III, international music, experimental music, solo piano, soul-dub-Afro-beat.

But Fridays belong to jazz, and the lineup so far has been stellar: Lewis and Nichols, Adam Linz, Alden Ikeda, Chris Thomson, Dean Granros, James Buckley, Park Evans, Chris Bates, J.T. Bates, Anthony Cox, Gordy Johnson, Laura Caviani, Joey Van Phillips, Peter Schimke, and other top area talent who also play the Artists' Quarter, the Dakota, the Cedar and the Clown Lounge. Even Kenny Horst, who owns the Artists' Quarter and rarely plays elsewhere, packed up his drums and brought them to Maude.

As well as drawing hordes of diners, Maude has become a musicians' hang. After Matt Wilson and his Carl Sandburg Project performed recently at the Minnesota Opera Center, everyone went to Maude. Nichols and drummer Jay Epstein were already there, listening to the Enormous Quartet (Thomson, Evans, Bates, Van Phillips). Dave King and Reid Anderson of the Bad Plus showed up for a party on the Sunday after Christmas.

The woman behind the programming

The demographic on stage tends to be young and cutting-edge; at the booths and tables, it's more conservative and better heeled. Which is precisely the mix Sheehy and music programmer "Maude" have in mind. "Maude" prefers to keep her real name anonymous so that she isn't inundated with requests for bookings. She had such interesting things to say about how she works that I agreed to let her keep her anonymity.

People may come to Café Maude for the crab cakes, roasted corn chowder and quail with squash cheddar gratin, but they'll also get an earful of sounds that push the boundaries of what they're used to.

Some may find this uncomfortable. Others feel happy without knowing why. "Our mission is a bit subversive," says "Maude." "We're bringing strange music to a fairly straight crowd. This is our way of inspiring people."

It's entertainment, but it's also an education, she says. "When musicians give you something you haven't heard before, it makes your ear stronger for the future."

For a new restaurant to do a build-out, hire a creative and experienced chef, develop a menu that consistently wins raves, staff up, and win a liquor license in a neighborhood that initially opposed it, live music may seem like reckless splurge.

"Obviously it's one of those expenses we could cut," Sheehy says, "like our flower budget or some other thing if we were desperate, but thank God we're not. We'll do it as long as I can afford it."

Between now and April, during which Sheehy and "Maude" will both be traveling, the roster will feature artists that regulars have come to know: Tasha Baron and Liz Draper, Van Phillips, Lewis, a night with Linz and Ikeda and Tommy O'Donnell, an evening with Granros and Schimke.

Call in advance to get a reservation, or take your chances and just drop by. To avoid the biggest, noisiest crush, arrive late; the kitchen stays open until midnight, and last call is 11:50 p.m. The music lasts until midnight, too. "It's free," Sheehy says. "Come and see it."

What: Jazz on Fridays
Where: Café Maude, 5411 Penn Ave. S., Minneapolis
When: 9 p.m. to midnight
How much: No cover
Phone: 612-822-5400
Website

Upcoming picks

Bill Carrothers' "Armistice 1918" Band U.S. premiere: A native son brings home his magnum opus and French Grammy winner for two complete performances. The Artists' Quarter, 9 p.m. Friday, Jan. 4, and Saturday, Jan. 5 ($15). Read a preview on MinnPost, "First must-see of 2008: Bill Carrothers' 'Armistice 1918'"

J.J. and Beyond: Celebrating the Trombone: You can't have too much brass on one stage. Michael Nelson and Dave Graf celebrate the works and artistry of legendary trombonists, accompanied by Locally Damaging Winds, a jazz trombone ensemble led by Brad Bellows, and the Mary Louise Knutson Trio. Connie Evingson makes a guest appearance. Co-sponsored by the Twin Cities Jazz Society. Bloomington Center for the Arts, 2 p.m. Sunday, January 6 ($19).

Irv Williams' CD release: For the follow-up to his sublime "Duo" with Peter Schimke, the ageless saxophonist gathered a Who's Who of local greats (Schimke, Gordy Johnson, Kenny Horst, Loren Walstad, Gus Sandberg) and recorded 10 tunes including two originals. He calls it "Finality" but we'll see about that. The Dakota, 7 p.m. Sunday, Jan. 6 ($5).

Michael Lewis and Bryan Nichols

11/30/07, Cafe Maude: After viewing the train wreck of Chet Baker's life, we went to Cafe Maude in southwest Minneapolis, where owner Kevin Sheehy is serving good food and live music—jazz on Fridays. Michael Lewis (of Fat Kid Wednesdays and Happy Apple) bent over his saxophone, Bryan Nichols made magic on the piano keys, and I had the stickiest bourbon Manhattan of my life, possibly because I asked for cherries. But no one shot heroin, at least not openly, and everyone had a good time. There were seven of us and we had to wait over an hour for a table in the small but packed restaurant, where I hope at least a few people besides us, drummer Alden Ikeda, and Mike Lewis's mom Mary were there for the music as well as the hamburgers, lamb skewers, crab cakes, and fries.

Fat Kid Wednesdays on MySpace.
Happy Apple on MySpace.

Photo of Mike Lewis by John Whiting. Mike is a guy who never sits or stands still for a second, plus this photo captures his jazzy coolness.