Just back from Vancouver a couple of weeks ago. I’ll tell you about that, but first I need to backtrack and tell you about my trip to Europe in April and May.
The trip actually started in New England on my old stomping grounds Martha’s Vineyard. I flew there to visit my first…. brand new, absolutely precious grandson, Quinlan. Words cannot express the feeling. People warned me about how good this would feel, but there was no way to know.
After I left The Vineyard, I played a gig in the Boston area, took a little detour to Detroit to visit friends, and then flew on to London. After my usual few days of decompression at Joe Boyd’s flat, I headed up to Northern Wales for a gig in Worthenbury. The Brits (and I hope here to include the Welsh) are experts. Everyone seems to be an expert about something…. butterflies, walking sticks, gardening, military vessels, you name it; and the blues. There are blues clubs scattered about the UK. I love these places. One or more blues nuts convince the rest of their community that there is something to the stuff, and they set up a ‘blues club’, and then people show up for the shows and they have a good old time. I think this is terrific. In Worthenbury, the blues nuts were Peter Evans and his partners Paul and Ian (Peter, Paul and Ian…. close). They filled the place, paid me fair and square and made me feel very welcome indeed. I hope to return. I am, after all, the son of a Jones.
A few days later I headed off to Bavaria…. to Munich. I had told friends there that someday I would like to spend a few days off enjoying the city, and I made good on it. And they made good on showing me a wonderful time. Upon my arrival, my friend Carl-Ludwig Reichert wasted no time whisking me off to an old and reputable beer garden. This place had a vibe… shade trees, chit chat, and people from all walks of life. I’m told that beer gardens, which started in Bavaria, were the first place that people gathered without regard to social status…. the prototype for democracy in Germany. We had special noodles, special sauerkraut… and already I was getting the treatment.
On our way walking back to my hotel, we were delayed on the street by the local Polizei to allow a pack of roller skaters to go by. The street was full of them. It was Skate Night (rochen nacht?). Every Monday night in the summer, people of all ages and types (more beer garden influence?) strap on their skates and roll through Munich. This gang must have taken fifteen minutes to get past us…. maybe ten thousand people…. children, clowns, freaks, Catholics, punks, accountants rolling past us. Carl-Ludwig and his sweetheart, Monika, also had me over to their home (full of rare and odd books) for a wonderful meal of homemade soup and special sausages, cheeses, … little things that were very delicious.
Another friend, Karl Bruckmaier, and his wife Isabella, made sure that I wouldn’t leave Munich without some fresh spargel (asparagus) so I was lucky enough to be invited to their home as well. I think I have written before about the German spargel mania, but suffice to say they are nuts for blanched asparagus. I was there at just the right time.
The next day Karl, Isabella and I visited the Alte Pinakothek museum…. the “White Sausage”… long, straight, severe, no wings (connected structures). Somehow this building escaped (for the most part) the bombing of WWII. When they renovated, they left the walls exposed in places that show what bomb damage did exist. I like it.
Time to head out and play a few gigs. I would return to Munich in a few days, but I had to make a festival in Wendelstein and a performance in Steyr, Austria. Steyr was a particularly interesting place. I wouldn’t have known this had it not been for the generous efforts of local resident, Tony Stangl, who gave me and my road manager, Gerrit Brockmann, a walking tour of the town. Steyr sits comfortably at the confluence of the Steyr and Enns rivers and it is spectacularly beautiful. Many famous people have spent time here… Franz Schubert and Anton Bruckner composed here and some guy name Adolph something or other was enrolled at the realschule when he was a teenager. There, he worked on his social skills to no particular avail.
The thing that most impressed me about Steyr was it’s beauty relative to it’s vibrant manufacturing economy. We don’t seem to have any of this kind of balance in the United States. There was the little town of Steyr, a tourist bureau’s dream come true (unless they having floods) in juxtaposition to factories churning out products with thousands of well-paid workers living in very nice conditions just a couple of kilometers from the center. In the middle of the night, trains carry tractor and car parts and other high-quality manufactured items (okay, including firearms) over the hills to Munich and beyond. This is the way things should be.
To top off my Steyr sightseeing tour, I saw my first European kingfisher zip under a bridge we were walking over.
Back in Bavaria, I played a regular gig in Ingolstadt at a club called Neue Welt and then went back to Munich. Christos Davidopoulos asked me back to his store, Optimal Records, to play for a few of his customers. This place is the best. The people who work there are the best. Christos is the best. The customers are the best. What can I say? After the show we went to dinner with Christos, his assistant, Jasmine and the people from Trikont records. Check this label out. These guys are liable to do anything. Who else puts out the music of the Bavarian bands of Texas?
If you had asked me 10 years ago if I thought I would ever fall in love with Bavaria, and Munich in particular, I would have bet against it. But now… I feel very good there… very welcome.
After one more gig in Bavaria – Regensbourg – I headed to Holland, another of my new, favorite spots. My first experience this time was an interview on Dutch Radio in Hilversum in preparation for a gig at The Paradiso in Amsterdam. There is a huge complex of radio and TV studios in Hilversum as well as full-time orchestras and choirs. We have nothing like it in the States. More on this later.
After visiting with my new friends in Amsterdam, Alet Miedema and her son, Arlo (such a good young man) and Alet’s sister and brother-in-law Jitta and Peter, I played The Paradiso the next evening. The day after that, Alet and I went out to The Hague by train to visit The Mauritshuis.
This place is a must for Vermeer freaks, therefore a must for me. There are three Vermeers in the museum and two of them are spectacular: The Girl with a Pearl Earring and View of Delft (the other, Diana and Her Companions, is not). What makes these two paintings even more incredible than they would be on their own, is their placement in the gallery. They are in a small room, and they are facing each other, from the middle of the wall on one side to the middle of the wall on the other. The Girl is very exotic (like a young Maria D’Amato actually). She has just turned her head and she’s looking right at you…. she fixes on you… her slightly-greenish brown eyes are big and round and the interior light is warm on her skin and on her clothing…. and there is a yellow splash of light on that earring. But then you notice something that the reproductions in books don’t reveal, at least so as you’d notice. Her mouth is open just a little bit, and you can see that her tongue is pushing ever so lightly against her lower lip and gently bulging around one of her lower teeth and you become more interested… and then you look back at her beautiful eyes…. and where they had once seemed spontaneous, engaging and mysterious, they are now also intensely provocative. In an instant she becomes dangerously sexy.
On the other wall directly across from The Girl With a Pearl Earring is View of Delft. Whatever magic Vermeer invoked with his rendering of interior light in Pearl Earring he now invokes in View of Delft with his mastery of exterior light. I had seen this painting before at the National Gallery in Washington, DC. I wasn’t prepared for it then, nor now. It’s a beautiful landscape painting with figures on a beach in the foreground, and a 17th century Dutch town reflected in a calm, tidal river with wisps of wind in spots. The town is mostly in shadow but some areas furthest away are sunlit. There is a magnificent, almost ominous, cloudy sky looming above it all. If you stand in front of this painting and collect your thoughts, something happens. You start to relax, and then you are carried into it… you are airborne… soaring… you are in the painting. In the Mauritshuis, after you’ve snapped out of it, and you’ve begun to feel the gravity of the room and hear the whispers of the patrons, you can turn around and look across to the far wall at The Girl With a Pearl Earring. And it comes to you. Interior light, exterior light, human forms, nature’s forms, perspective, composition, sexuality, piety, Man’s creations on God’s earth… Is there anything beyond Vermeer’s gift to magically render?
After The Hague I headed to Bemmel to meet up with Jan Meurs and his wife, Anneke. Jan will be presenting me in October, but he invited me out to ‘the country’ this time to get an idea of how things go out there. The meals were delicious…. home cookin’. I was on a lucky streak. I stayed down the road from Jan at the home of Marcel Driessen and Brigitte De Vries; Marcel is a very good guitar picker and teacher. The house was a bicycle ride away from Jan’s. I can’t believe I actually got into peddling one of those things again. Bicycles rule in Holland. In LA they are considered a form of suicide.
The highlight of the Bemmel part of my trip was a visit to a very old windmill. As I recall, the town had just purchased it from an elderly man who had operated the mill his whole life. Jan works with physically challenged people…. that’s his main job. He had been looking for a good place to channel their energies with constructive projects, so the town agreed to building a facility next to the windmill where Jan’s people could participate in the packaging and selling of the flour produced by the mill. What a nice project. I would very much like to return there when it is up and running.
We took a good look around the mill and the new building, and, luckily, when we were just about to leave, the mill operator showed up. I don’t know why he decided to do it, but he lead us back up into the mill and took us up to the top and set the sails to get the mill going. It was amazing…. the power of the thing. I don’t remember any metal parts… just wind driving wooden gears and shafts and a big stone turning and grinding. The sounds were inspiring…. the creaking and moaning of the wood. At the miller’s beckoning I put my hand under a chute and out came the flour into it… a wonderful moment. Environmental impact = zero.
Jan and Anneke drove me back to Hilversum the next day so I could meet up with my friend, Gert-Jan Blom. Gert-Jan is a fine bass player, but his capacity in this situation was as an artistic director. Dutch Radio and TV keeps on staff a symphony orchestra, chamber orchestra, choir and jazz orchestra. In this case, Gert-Jan had invited me to a recording session with the American pianist, trombonist, composer, Bobby Brookmeyer, and the 6o-piece Dutch Radio jazz orchestra. Very classy writing… Bobby take trips with his writing… it gets “out there”, but he always returns to “home” (the blues, baby, the blues). The sounds were big and thick, and the orchestra was magnificent. It all got me to thinking. Look out.
I made it back to England the next day and finished up with a couple of performance centre gigs before heading back to LA.
A month or so after returning home (we’re getting close to current folks), it was time to hit it again and I headed up to Vancouver, BC to play four festivals in the area. The first was the North Shore Jazz Festival at Capilano College for the Performing Arts in North Vancouver. The director of the Capilano performances, Fiona Black, had taken a ferry to Port Townsend, Washington a while ago to hear me play in a little church, and she decided to ask me to her festival. She also helped set up the other festivals and coordinate the whole 2 1/2 weeks…. for which I am very grateful. The Capilano College gig (hers) went off well. The audience was a dream, and very polite because, of course (as one customer attested to from his seat), they were Canadian. Seems like quite a few people came together that night who hadn’t seen each other in a long while. Lots of good front lobby chit chat ensued and there were very good CD sales… Geoff like that.
Later that night I had the pleasure of eating homemade bundt cake and cream with Fiona and her mother (baker of the cake). They are Newfoundlanders, and Fiona’s mother came originally from The Shetlands. My interest was very piqued (fishing, raising sheep, indigenous music, etc.) and I grilled them for stories…. throwing in a few of my own about my days on Martha’s Vineyard.
The next day I moved out of the hotel and into unknown digs at the home of Katherine Mooney. Little did I know what was in store for me. I had entered The Mooney Zone! This family kept me going. The first night we were back over to Capilano College to hear John Boutte with a gospel choir. I had never heard of this great New Orleans singer before this night. Thanks again to Fiona Black for turning us on to John, and please check this guy out.
Katherine lives with her partner, Tim, near a beautiful park where I was able to walk and bird watch and get some ‘alone time’ before each Mooney event. Her older bother, Kevin, cooked up a storm the next night (he is a restaurateur) and I was introduced to ex-pat, actor, musician and raconteur Jim Byrnes. This guy is a character… from St. Louis. Story after story he would hit upon ideas and bits of information that I thought were the sole property of us Cambridge hipsters. Jim must have been reading our mail. How else would he know the origins of the making of ouzo!
The following day a band of gypsies descended upon us. They had arrived from Paris…. Katherine’s younger brother, Chris, his wife Clara, and their three children, Tybalt, Zola and Segovia. Is anyone thinking of taking a nap? Perhaps a little later. These guys were an energy force…. walking and talking electrons. What a sweet crew they were though. The children were bright and curious. The parents, well… bright and curious. Hmm. More good food hit the table and I’m sorry, but I’m having trouble remembering what else happened…. it’s a blur. The social ramble, well-timed naps, walks in the woods and terrific dinners went on for a few days though… and then I had to leave to go to work….. yes, work.
The next festival was in Harrison Hot Springs out in the Fraser Valley on beautiful Lake Harrison. Phyllis Stenson was my host for the concert there, and this time I was sharing the bill with my old partner, Amos Garrett. Nice to hear the great Garrett finesse and bend his way through the changes again. The hall was hot and steamy… perfect for the voice! Phyllis couldn’t have been nicer.
The next day, Amos and I drove to the ferry and made it over to Vancouver Island for the Vancouver Island MusicFest in Courtenay, presented by the Comox Valley Folk Society. I’m a sucker for ferries having spent so much time going back and forth between Woods Hole, MA and Martha’s Vineyard. The ferry system in BC is fabulous. These boats have soul, unlike the floating malls one finds in Ireland and other places. Go BC.
At the Courtenay Festival I ran into John Boutte again, Guy Clark, Ray Bonneville, Paul Ubana Jones, and the fabulous Marigolds from Toronto. Amos and I played together again at a beautiful workshop setting in the woods with yellow warblers flitting back and forth over the heads of the audience.
After a couple of days in Courtenay I headed back to Vancouver proper and had the pleasure of spending a night at the home of Jim Coverdale and Lynn Buhler and their dog, Fred. Fred is deaf, so he is constantly surprised by anyone he happens to see if it’s been more than a few minutes since the last time. Fortunately he is a friendly little Disney dog, so each encounter is benign. Jim and Lynn and I had a really easy time of it together… a good dinner… and much good conversation.
The next day, I moved into a swank downtown hotel a few blocks from the Vancouver Art Gallery (museum). They had an exhibition showing of art from the Cleveland Art Museum which was quite nice. Not much else in the place though… and the price was the highest I’ve ever seen for a museum. $19.50… give me a break. Evidently, the place to go to in Vancouver is the Museum of Anthropology where they exhibit loads of First Nation artworks. I shall visit next time.
A couple of days later I was invited to join Gospel DJs, Marc Lindy and Ray Bolen at a community radio station to pick amongst their vast collection and spin some of my favorites. I love doing this and I hadn’t heard most of the music we played for many years. Gospel music was a mainstay of the folkies in Cambridge in the 60s. Every Easter the gospel circuit came to the Boston Arena and we got to hear the best of the best: The Harmonizing Four, The Blind Boys of Alabama, The Blind Boys of Mississippi, The Swan Silvertones, James Cleveland, The Sensational Nightingales, Edna Gallmon Cooke, The Consolers, The Dixie Hummingbirds, Shirley Cesar, The Mighty Clouds of Joy, Dorothy Love Coates and The Gospel Harmonettes… for some reason all these groups played one or more times at the Arena when I lived in Cambridge. Boston didn’t seem to be the town for it but it was. It didn’t seem to be the place for bluegrass either, but Joe Val, Tex Logan, Don Stover and Bill Keith came out of that scene. But I digress. Thanks to Marc and Ray for letting me wander through the candy store.
It was time for The Vancouver Folk Festival. I played the first one in 1977, so it had been 30 years. Years ago they moved the location from Stanley Park, where I first played, to Jericho Beach… one beautiful setting to another beautiful setting. The weather was perfect. I had five ‘stages’ to play which included my own little concert and a stage hosted by Jim Byrnes with a 5-piece horn section. I took advantage of the horns and brought a couple of charts with me… Meanest Woman (my chart) and Howard Johnson’s arrangement of Please, Send Me Someone to Love that I recorded with Paul Butterfield’s Better Days. I love firing that thing up. It’s like riding a freight train.
All in all it was a fine festival. I got to hear my current favorite guitar player, John Doyle who was performing with Liz Carroll. John’s from Dublin and I first heard him on a recording by Linda Thompson called Miss Murray to which I had the pleasure of adding a little flavoring in the way of written accordion (Van Dyke Parks) and violin (Richard Greene) parts. John was magnificent. I wish he’d look at his fingerboard when he plays, even if only to fake that he’s working at it.
I spent a lot of time talking to people at this festival. It was very rewarding to hear the stories of how The Kweskin Jug Band or The Better Days Band or just me had had some effect on peoples’ lives.
This trip to Vancouver had a very lasting effect on me. I’m in love with the place and the wonderful people I got to spend time with. I’m scheming a return.
Next gig will be in the Bay Area on August 26th. Jim Kweskin, John Sebastian, Fritz Richmond’s BBQ Orchestra, and special guests will be performing at The Great American Music Hall in San Francisco as part of the SF Jug Band Festival and to mark the premiere of “Chasing Gus’s Ghost” a documentary film by Todd Kwait on the history of Jug Bands.
In the fall I head to Ireland, Holland, Germany, and the eastern part of the USA.
I won’t wait as long to write the next “What’s Up”. Man, this was some update!
Take care.
Geoff