Thursday of Jazz Fest has long been known as "Local Day." It's like we New Orleanians have the fest to ourselves, and the Fairgrounds are filled with elementary school groups in matching colored t-shirts, supervised by vigilant but relaxed teachers, and large groups of folks of all ages from home for the developmentally disabled. Everyone feels loose; no one is stressed out. There are no lines to speak of and there's just this happy, homey feeling. You gotta love the fest on Local Day.
It was a cloudy day, with some predictions of scattered local showers, but nothing heavy. It was supposed to be in the high 70s, and windy -- as far as we're concerned, a perfect Jazz Fest day. We arrived around 12 noon, after parking again on Lopez with our new parking pal Mark. Our first stop was the Heritage Stage, where the Paulin Brothers Brass Band (heirs to the Doc Paulin Brass Band) were playing. Big Man has played a lot with "young" Doc Paulin, whose instrument in the family band is trombone. On the stage were Paulins on tuba, trumpet, drums, and sax. We moved close in so we could wave to Doc, who was doing a killer 'bone solo. He saw us as he finished and grinned and waved his 'bone at us. We stayed through the next number, a long medley of trad hymns ("Lawd, Lawd," "I'll Fly Away," "Down by the Riverside") and then waved good-bye to Doc on our way to the Gentilly Stage to set up our chairs.
At Gentilly, we found a good spot as a group we didn't know, Jeff & Vida, were playing. We went craft-looking and food foraging, opting for 2 selections that on other Jazz Fest days had long lines: soft-shell crab po boy and pheasant, quail and andouille gumbo. We shared with each other and ate under one of the food pavillions set up and met some other good folks as we listened to music flowing over us from various stages and watched the people going by.
We grabbed iced teas and a duck po boy on our way back to the Gentilly Stage, to catch the rest of Theresa Anderson's set. We arrived as she was doing "Blue Skies" and doing it very well indeed. We approached from the side and walked down the path to our chairs, so we really didn't get a good look at the stage until after we sat down. It sounded to us like she had a line of women singers harmonizing with her, so you can imagine our surprise when we finally sat down (with just the tiniest mist of a rainfall coming down) and saw that only Theresa was on the stage. She was using a looping device, and was taping her own voice and then harmonizing with herself, operating the mechanism with her (bare) feet. She did an old Allen Toussaint song, "Sun Rise, Sun Set" and gave it this eerie haunting quality, crooning in to the mike, scatting with herself, harmonies piling up in layers. It was amazing, uncanny. She did another number, again, all by herself, and we could hardly keep our mouths closed, instead hanging agape, just gobsmacked.
For the next number she brought out some other musicians, obviously friends of hers, and told a story of taping her last album almost entirely in her kitchen in Algiers Point, and she told us about how some of the percussion on that album was Theresa herself, stomping on her kitchen floor. She pointed to her (bare) feet on stage, and the video camera focussed on the small wooden box she was standing on; she told us this would stand in for her kitchen floor. It was a great number, with Theresa stamping her feet as she sawed away on her fiddle, but when the song was over, the musicians all left, and Theresa was along again on stage.
She told us what a privilege it was to be at Jazz Fest (Big Man heartily agreed) and what a gift to live in New Orleans, her true home, she said. She thanked everyone for coming, told us all about her gig Sunday night at Le Petit. And then she said this, her final song, was dedicated to us, the people who go to Jazz Fest and make it what it is. The she began scatting in different nonsense words, looping it so that that as she went into the lyrics, she was already singing with herself, layer on layer, in perfect harmony. "Mother Earth will swallow you, lay your body down." Her voice was crystalline, pure, cutting through the air like ice and landing on us like a cool blessing. in this gigantic Jazz Fest crowd, you could've heard a pin drop. The hairs on my arm and on the back of my neck stood up, and my eyes filled with tears. I'd never heard anything so wondrous as this young Swedish-New Orleanian, singing along with herself, granting us this benediction. "Find the cost of freedom buried in the ground -- Mother Earth will swallow you, lay your body down." When she finished, there was a moment of silence before the crowd erupted into applause and screams. I wiped my face and turned to Big Man and he needed the handkerchief too. Big Man gasped out, "That's now my Jazz Fest Moment."
We needed an emotional break and walked away while the stage crew set up for the Subdudes. We made our way to the music and book tents to look at what was available and talked about purchasing the recording of Theresa Anderson's set as soon as it came out. We got back as the 'dudes took the stage and did a great job with old favorites and some new tunes. We so enjoyed watching my old friend Johnny Magnie on the squeezebox and vocals, and we always love hearing Tommy Malone's rich and expressive voice. It was hard to leave, but we did want to see The Meter Men, so with reluctance we packed up for the long walk across the whole Fairgrounds.
The Meter Men were doing "People Say" as we reached earshot (unfortunately, we had to pass the Cracklins booth on the way) and ran through some other old Meter hits with polish and funk (if those two don't cancel each other out). We stayed for a while, automatically bumping hips in rhythm, as were practically everyone else in the crowd. Who can NOT dance with the Meters?
We passed through the Acura car tent for shade on our way to the Jazz Tent and sat on the grandstand for the Newport All Stars. We were there almost exclusively so that Big Man and I (well, mostly Big Man) could feast our ears on the trumpet playing of the great Randy Brecker, but it turns out everyone on stage was a great talent -- Esperanza Spaulding on upright bass and vocals, Anat Cohhen on sax and clarinet, the great Jimmy Cobb on drums, and Newport Jazz Fest founder George Wein on piano. It was a terrific set, and Brecker played astoundingly. Big Man wanted to get closer, so we climbed down and headed to the front just as Brecker had stepped back on the stage to make room for the solos of the other players. He happened to look over his shoulder just as Big Man was standing near the front on the side. Randy Brecker looked directly at Big Man and it was as though he knew him, or at the very least recognized another trumpet player. He actually waved to Big Man and Big Man tipped his hat back, feeling mighty pleased at the little gesture. We found recently-vacated chairs near the front and stayed to the very end. Big Man was pretty happy and inspired -- so much so that we plans to hear the one-on-one interview with Randy Brecker as our closing set.
We arrived just as the interview started (we were walking, but of course Randy Brecker got an air conditioned ride in a musicians' shuttle!) and got front-row seats. (Interestingly enough, Brecker winked at Big Man as we sat down.) The interview was fascinating -- an engrossing tale of connections and interconnections in the worlds of jazz and pop and rock in New York City, Europe, and even the Mideast. Famous names fly by, this one and that one, this incredible recording and then that one. What got me was how to Brecker, everything was just luck and coincidence, no reference to his talent and his other-worldly playing ability -- his modesty was very endearing. Big Man got up during the Q&A and told Brecker, "I'm a trumpet player too, but I don't have half of your talent or luck!" and went on to ask about the difference in playing jazz and pop. Brecker answered in a way that might have been surprising: he said to him there was not that big a difference, what mattered was the music.
At one point in the interview, as the interviewer went through his notes, in the quiet, you could just hear Emmylou Harris at Gentilly doing a lovely version of "Say a Little Prayer" but that was all we heard of her set. But we were happy with a Jazz Fest day filled with beautiful musical moments.
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