When David Mossman and Irving Kindersley founded the Vortex Jazz Bar, as the sign has it still, 25 years ago on Stoke Newington Church Street little did either of these pioneers know just how the club would develop. As David Mossman explained during a break standing on the stairs leading to the club now relocated in nearby Dalston these past seven years: “It was a complete accident. Irving was the jazz lover, and we had the gallery but needed to make better use of the space. Irving moved on later for the book trade but I was the one who got into jazz and stayed." David, a former taxi driver, who now runs the Harbour Café Bar in Margate, is still is to be found on the door of the club most Fridays and Saturdays.
The Vortex itself is now run by a foundation whose main operational director is Oliver Weindling, the public face of the club in many ways, and inspiration behind its move to Dalston’s Culture House when the landlord of the old place forced the club out preferring to usher in a Nando’s instead. Speaking on NTS radio, the Hackney community web radio station broadcasting live from the special free festival running all day to celebrate the 25th anniversary, Oliver talked to saxophonist Alan Wilkinson on air about the way the club has developed. Wilkinson spoke of the hub of great music in Dalston with neighbouring Cafe Oto boosting the buzz. “It’s like 52nd St," Weindling quipped, and as he spoke as if to prove his point, Mats Gustafsson of The Thing and Thurston Moore were performing at Oto to a full house on the second day of their residency.
Outside the studio on Gillett Square up to 1,000 people and growing were listening to Grime MC Olushola Ajose, aka Afrikan Boy, performing with a DJ and dancers, while later Nostalgia 77, Ben Lamdin’s band fusing old school funk and soul with spiritual jazz, would complete the fest.
The festival had opened at 2pm with the glorious free jazz anarchy of the rarely heard People Band with its Ayler-esque sense of abandon and great horns featuring Davey Payne of Blockheads renown, 33 records’ Paul Jolly, and Westbrook alumnus George Khan, with spoken word poetry from Terry Day also a highlight. An incantatory hippie spell was summoned up at times with bells, little grunts and sighs, the lot. Wonderful stuff.
Later highlights included a feel-good Township Comets with the fine singer Pinise Saul joining the infectious ensemble of Adam Glasser on keys and harmonica, Frank Tontoh on drums, Harry Brown trombone, Rob Townsend saxophone, and Dudley Phillips, bass, creating a scintillating township sound.
With Annie Whitehead’s world music workshop, the sounds of Seddik Zebiri from Algeria and his multicultural Seeds of Creation, gnawa psychedelia from Electric Jalaba (pictured) and more besides the crowd enjoyed the fine weather as they mingled and sampled the food and real ale stands.
David Mossman could not have envisaged the tremendous success of the club all those years ago when the Vortex was emerging tucked away on a quiet London street with only the occasional bus trundling by to make some noise beyond for company. What the future holds is anyone’s guess; however, one thing is for sure, the club holds the key to the most creative edge of the London jazz scene, and without its input that incubating area for the music of today and tomorrow would be immeasurably worse off, and yet it’s only just begun.
Photos: Paolo Ganino and Alev Lenz
En ny dag
The leader of one of the most acclaimed and best selling young European piano jazz trios currently around En ny dag ("a new day") is Swedish pianist Martin Tingvall’s first solo piano album, and like the trio it’s very different to anything you’ll hear, despite appearances.
Tingvall, and maybe critics of his approach will say it’s simplistic and naïve, goes for the obvious improvising route, ie melodic variation. He doesn’t really deal with abstraction in the sense that there are dense harmonies and structural idiosyncrasies, lots of dissonance and knotty rhythms. But there’s much more going on beneath the surface and the tunes are more than good and he builds them via softly realised cycles and subtle shifts in not so much tempo as mood and register. They speak to you. I’d compare him to a popular novelist whose books are readable and have a certain logic to them, rather than to a writer who wishes to redo the rules of the novel and make sure you know that’s what’s going on.
There are naturalistic aspects to some of the song titles, all in Swedish, with English translations provided. So you get a falling star and a constellation bookending the album, with thunder (track six), the light and joy of midsummer, and also little asides in terms of song title choices that link to more domestic references.
All the compositions are by Tingvall himself, and they all tread a path between quietly melancholic interpretation and contemplative expression. There are no miniature anthems, thank goodness, and it never becomes some sort of vainglorious hymn of awkward quietude and introspection, but there is a positive force at work that is hard to pin down. If you see him with the trio or at a rarer solo concert you’ll know what I mean: you just feel as if you’re glad you made the effort to come, and that what you’ve just heard has made up for the nonsense of the day gone by.
Tingvall who was born in the southern Swedish province of Skåne 37 years ago studied jazz piano and composition at the Malmö Academy of Music, moving to Hamburg in 1999, and founded the trio four years later. His first inspiration was McCoy Tyner, something now deep in the background as is Scandinavian folk music to an extent although it’s within touching distance just about. Occasionally there are hints of the approach of Abdullah Ibrahim here and there although despite claims to the contrary I can’t hear the link to Chopin or Bach as primary classical influences that some listeners ascribe to his background, at least on this album where everything is out in the open. A very impressive album from a fine player who has a highly persuasive musical personality all of his own.
Bradford West Respect MP George Galloway was invited on stage at Ronnie Scott’s by host actor and comedian Keith Allen on the first night of the late night homage to The Establishment club, the Greek Street night spot that kickstarted the satire boom in the 1960s courtesy of Peter Cook whose widow Lin gave her blessing to the return of the historic name at Ronnie’s. Galloway sat down with Allen after delivering his joke about a man ‘wafting’ a blanket over another man having sex with his wife to talk about some of the fall out from Galloway’s recent controversial comments about rape, and discussed, to a bit of heckling, the controversial case of Julian Assange currently living in the Ecuadorian embassy having been granted political asylum. Galloway feels the rape charge against Assange is a set-up.
Allen introduced a range of comedians as the show continued. With continuity music by the James Pearson trio (Pearson, piano, Sam Burgess, bass, and Dave Ohm, drums) who played some snatches of little known Dudley Moore trio songs and other material although Allen confessed to the audience that he actually “fucking hated jazz”. First on was Glaswegian comic Arnold Brown whose droll lugubrious manner brought the poet Ivor Cutler to mind and perhaps even the patter of the maverick performer Earl Okin. Later came the disappointing Marian Pashley, the pretty tame Phil Nichol whose ‘I’m The Only Gay Eskimo’ routine went on a bit too long; slightly underwhelming Mark Nelson, and the likeable Ria Lina but who could have done with better material. There was a talented mime artist in a red wig, interpreting a Judy Garland recording from the 1960s which worked surprisingly well, but thank goodness for Terry Alderton who blew all the others away with a routine that was genuinely inventive, risky in some ways with a variety of voices delivered with his back to the audience, great microphone sound effects, and a playful routine utilising the assistance of an elderly chap in the front row of the audience. Maybe not risqué overall as in Peter Cook’s understanding of the word back in the Establishment days when the Lord Chamberlain had to be circumvented, how could it be?, but very engaging.
And finally a brief word about the sensational teenage four-piece from Cavan in Ireland, The Strypes, whose authentic and retro take on Yardbirds style blues-rock went down a treat with their rousing treatment of ‘You Can’t Judge A Book By The Cover’ and ‘My Generation’ among other numbers. It got lots of people in Ronnie’s on their hind legs and applauding with genuine enthusiasm. Jeff Beck sitting in the audience must have smiled and smiled.
Keith Allen (above) and The Strypes.
The Establishment continues tonight, 11.30pm
In a society that often reveres the ephemeral and mocks ideas or concepts that don’t conform to the norm of the day here’s something to cherish, something only an independent record company can produce these days, and something only people with a passion and determination can achieve when they set their minds to it.
It’s the reissue by Swedish record label Caprice of Don Cherry’s Organic Music Society on CD and handsome double vinyl, whose sonic pristine presence hovers over the sorry tattered mess of the major label reissue efforts of late like an avenging angel.
Cherry by the end of the 1960s was living in Sweden with his wife Moki Karlsson and family, and collaborating with a range of Swedish players exploring what’s now called, uncomfortably to some because of its ‘coffee table’ connotations, world music. So in 1971 and 1972 Cherry got down the tracks for this double album which until this year apparently hadn’t appeared on CD. A few tracks ‘Elixir’ and ‘Relativity Suite’ were taped in a studio but the rest was live made on portable machines. Along with a range of leading Swedish players of the day including Bengt Berger, Christer Bothén, and Tommy Koverhult who sound just great alongside Cherry listen out for Turkish percussionist Okay Temiz, and even Nana Vasconcelos little known in Europe at the time. As well as playing pocket cornet Cherry sings and takes to a range of instruments including harmonium, flute and conch shell. Of the music there’s a version of Pharoah Sanders and Leon Thomas’ ‘The Creator has a Masterplan’, music by Dollar Brand as he then was, and the great minimalist Terry Riley with plenty more beside to savour. The sound hits you in the face. So if you get hold of a copy, take your time, kick back, it might just make your day.