Review: Missed the CT Int Jazz festival? Panda didnt
I know so many people that wanted to go to this weekends Cape Town International Jazz Festival (ex North Sea) but couldnt… Well our Panda got to go and REPRESENT and here she gives you the whole run down – READ IT – you’ll know what you missed and what you didn’t!!!!! Sounds like Dhafer Yussef, Cesario, 340ml, Simphiwe, MXO, Bhudaza, Johnny Clegg, Sir Samuel group, Tespo Tshola…
, Amina Figarova Septet and PBA didnt dissapoint…
What a privilege to attend the Cape Town International Jazz Festival – “the first time the festival is a completely proudly SA event” they said, although the Ambassade van het Kroninkrijk der Nederlanden can still be found on the list of sponsors. But dit maak nie saak nie, it is the cream of our SA music calendar and not just aimed at people who say jazz with an h.
I have grown accustomed to seeing SA music at beery festivals on remote farms where you have to camp and minimize the showering and hope no one pees on your tent in the night. Not so with this festival, guests fly in and camp at the Arabella Sheraton, there are corporate sponsored areas with free food and booze flowing onto plates and into glasses on beautifully set tables with comfortable chairs and large flat screen TVs projecting music from every stage. These guys didn’t have to move!
Everyone else, the grandpas, the aunties, the families, the young dudes, the starstruck girls, the jazz aficionados, the scruffy musos, the affluent yuppies, the superbly dressed, the rich and famous moved freely from stage to stage from diva to dancers to drummers to gallery to coffee shop to whatever took their fancy on the schedule of 40 live acts.
I know a little about jazz but not enough to know instantly what I would like to pick from the smorgasbord of music the festival was offering so I decided to wonder around and take a pick of everything, sampling stages as I worked through the staggered programme. Of course I couldn’t see everything, it’s useless to try.
My festival kicked off at the Manenberg stage with Bhudaza from Lesotho who drew ululations from the crowd at the first note. Their gentle tribute to Miriam Makeba was a good way to ease into the festival.
Behind us on the Kippies stage, also from Lesotho, Tsepo Tshola had just started and I wandered over to watch. He wore a white linen suit and a glittery skull cap, a visual reminder of his AKA name “The Village Pope”. Mr Tshola delivered very dramatic jazz with raspy vocals, presumably from his more recent solo album, alongside two fabulous sashaying female backups.
Next was the Bassline stage to see Dhafer Youssef. This was my first taste of edge cutting at the festival. Posted as world music – which could mean anything, I was pleased to find it was African, but North African with Arab and Islam roots. It was new electronica with thick dub beats and a melody ancient and rich and beautiful. Think dates and olives and pyramids and crypts and incense and Pink Floyd and then warp speed that into the middle of the twenty first century. Very interesting. Very cool.
Then back to Southern Africa, Zululand to watch Swazi Dlamini on the outdoor stage. While we were waiting for her to start, the clouds took on the pink lining as they typically do at sunset in Cape Town while disco R & B boomed over the PA system. Enter the SAMA award winner in a fabulous beaded orange bodice with full gunmetal layered skirt singing “Trust yourself, don’t you give up” moving into deep soulful songs sung in Zulu and songs about falling in love – all resonating with female inner-strength and sisterhood.
Inside, on the Kippies stage, a crowd was gathering to see Johnnie Clegg. I didn’t stick around there because I have seen him perform a few times before and there was so much else to see. I did however catch the first two songs and was reaffirmed in the belief that he is truly a South African great. His stage presence, his professionalism and the caliber of the musicians on stage with him were no disappointment.
I had been told not to miss Ravi Coltrane from New York. Born of accomplished jazz musicians and highly acclaimed in his own right, I was eager to see what he and his saxaphone had to say. He was playing at Rosies, which was a pay stage. It struck me as a little weird to have a pay stage since it set up a weird stiff dynamic in the venue with people clucking their tongues at any disturbances from the crowd ’cause they’d paid their twenty bucks to be there. Respect for the artists is imperative and I understand the need for silence but a spittingly delivered “shhhhhh” is noisy and venomous to the good vibes at a music festival.
Ravi Coltrane’s most recent album is called Mad 6 and I have to admit, the jazz he played sounded mad to me and the musicians looked mad. Experimental and avante garde jazz is, so I’ve heard, an acquired taste and perhaps my jazz ears are a little wet behind because I found the squeals and pips and discordant crescendos a tad intense and unpleasant.
I looked at my programme. 340ml at the Bassline stage. There has been a lot of talk lately about this band. Think local Maroon 5 and a more up tempo Finlay Quaye. They’re a must-see and anyone who saw the Black-eyed Peas on tour lately would remember them as the supporting act. Pedro da Silva Pinto’s smooth vocals delivered from under his flat cap and their funk, soul, jazzy style had the crowd bouncing and yelling the lyrics at the stage “you knock me over with your kung-fu smile”. Unfortunately they had to stop just after the dramatic appearance of a female guest artist (who momentarily took the band into a Tori Amos dimension) because the sound was bad and driving the drummer mad. But these things happen and although disconcerted, they quickly found their groove again.
Still bouncing from the Bassline stage I made my way over to the Manenberg stage again to see the Amina Figarova Septet. First I saw the various wind instruments appear on stage in the hands of four very ordinary looking white guys and having not read the hype, wondered what I was in for as the trumpets started trumpeting and the saxes started saxing.
It soon occurred to me that the pianist was brilliant and craning my neck to see, I saw a woman swathed in black with long black hair bent over the piano. This is the incredible Amina Figarova from Azerbaijan who started composing music when she was three. The septets elegant eclectic style flowed like a zephyr through a field of flowers. It was wonderful to sit there and soak it up while throngs of hungry festival goers headed for the food stalls to line their stomachs.
Next up were the Yellow Jackets on the main stage, and no, they weren’t wearing yellow jackets. In keeping with the accomplished jazz musicians I had just heard, the Yellow Jackets were from what I, in my limited capacity, can only describe as the Kenny G genre.
The Moses Molelekwa Stage was impossible to access. I had wanted to go and see the Mlungisi Gegana Quintet but it was not to be. People had queued around the block to get in but there was no getting in.
Recovering from the crowd crush in the media center I regathered my energy while watching a live broadcast of the Shape of Strings to Come on the large screen TVs. I have seen Jimmy Dludlu, Richard Ceasar and Alvin Dyers perform their easy listening, Captonian flavoured jazz before and it would seem that their performance at the festival was no disappointment to jazz fans.
I was going to give the Trans-global Underground a miss since I had a horrifying suspicion that there were a trans outfit but my curiosity got the better of me and I popped in to the Bassline stage. To be fair, other accounts of their show report an interesting mix of styles and vast talent, but the song I happened to hear was awful. It seemed to me like they were trying to improve a trans song by incorporating other things that move it away from trans but still clung onto the trans thing. There was a guy talking about walking through doors to Cape Town in a Blur’s Parklife style overspeak in a similar accent and the base reverbing so hard you could feel it in the floorboards and at the back of your throat.
I escaped to the outdoor stage once more to catch SAMA award winner Ernie Smith from KZN. My first thought was “George Benson” and indeed, he is cited as a major influence of Mr Smith’s in the write-ups. A huge crowd had gathered and was thoroughly enjoying every note, singing the words and boogying the night away under the stars.
But I didn’t stay long as things were hotting up on the main stage. Grammy Award winner Roberta Flack was about to start. Soul and R&B legend, whose career spans from the sixties, the excitement was huge. I was expecting style and grace and dignity but was horrified to see that she was wearing a great big yellow curly wig and was so lit up by the powerful spots that she looked like a comedic character in a low budget movie about to ascend to heaven and dish out some matronly truths about soul.
But she is undoubtedly Roberta Flack and she can wear what she pleases. The auditorium was packed to its 8 500 capacity and she sang her love songs in her beautiful Roberta Flack voice and the crowd loved it.
By this stage of the evening, there was a large crowd of young people who were gatvol of smooth jazz and R & B and were enthusiastically waiting for the arrival of Pitch Black Afro on the Bassline stage. Mr Afro was running a little late and to ease us into it, the Brooklyn Soweto Connection were playing a little smooth jazz. The crowd were rude – booing and calling for Thulani Ngcobo to get his pitch black ass onto the stage.
Luckily they weren’t made to wait too long and he said “Pitch Black” and we said “Afro” and he delivered his signature hip hop kwaito with contageous energy and attitude that befits this rising star’s reputation.
It was a fabulous way to conclude the first night of the sixth international jazz festival in Cape Town.
Sunday got off to a slower start as Sunday’s tend to do. I was convinced by someone who knows his jazz to go and see Louis Moholo Sonke first. Drummer Louis Moholo is the last surviving member of the Blue Notes, the rest of the band having sadly died in exile. Along with other accomplished local and international musicians, Louis Moholo Sonke’s style is “free form” avante garde with the vocalist purring and kissing and shouting and laughing. I listened intently for a while and certainly, there were some wonderful moments but as I’ve said, it’s not quite my cuppa jazz. Those who stayed to watch assured me that I had missed out on the most superb music. Whatever.
Next was new band Bazwana at the Bassline stage. They were fantastic, energetic and refreshing. All having played amongst the best musicians on the SA scene, their edgy jazz style had a fairly sedated Sunday crowd bouncing to attention. This is definitely a band to watch.
Stealing the show downstairs were the Mahotela Queens. This was one of my favorites at the festival. With the youngest amongst them clocking in at 59 years, these fabulous ladies have danced and sung their way from the days with Mahlatini to establish themselves in their own right after his death. They are fantastic with every step and moment practiced and choreographed. The crowd adores them and roared the words to their songs and even as the much-needed rain started to fall and the promise of Cesaria Evora on the main stage started to draw people, I couldn’t bear to leave. Everyone was dancing and much to my surprise, I got caught in a huge line dance. Now I’ve been caught in a mosh before and lifted off my feet and swept 10meters backwards in a crowd push at the Red Hot Chilli Peppers concert in Auckland NZ and in those situations you just put your best elbow forward and fight your way out. In a line dance, you can’t push anyone! Especially to the Maholeta Queens! So you improvise. You pretend you know how the line dance or you’ll get pushed over. If everyone in the crowd takes a step to the left, you just have to! I laughed until my eyes were wet.
I loved Cesaria Evora from the minute she set her bare feet behind the mic. At the press conference, she said, “I am not a diva” and then asked if she could light a cigarette. Some say she is tired and ‘hanging on’ to fame from earlier years but I would say it is fame well deserved. I love Cuban jazz and her voice was so beautiful. I looked around at the enormous crowd and saw young people in gangster tracksuits, old people, fashionable people all getting the swing in their hips. Fans in front were all roaring the lyrics. Young couples swinging each other around reminded me of the Buena Vista Social Club’s concert in Hyde Park, where passers-by stopped, kicked off their shoes and danced when they heard the music.
Coming up next was Simphiwe Dana and once again the Moses Molelekwa stage proved too small to accommodate the crowd. Angry fans were starting to loose their ability to reason and accused the harassed doormen of only allowing whites in by the time I gave up trying to get in. The queue stretched almost the length of the Convention Centre. Luckily she appeared later on the outdoor stage and everyone got to see her.
Again I found myself escaping to the media room to watch Sammy Webber on the televisions there. Unfortunately, many others had had the same idea and I couldn’t hear the music.
Next stop was Bassline for the Sir Samuel Group and once again the venue had an enthusiastic crowd pulsing with French hip hop, reggae style beats. The drummer was exceptionally energetic and even so, looked at all times to be holding himself back – like Animal from the Muppets. This dynamic group recorded with Roots Manuva and the Wu Tang Clan and have an edgy energy and funk that make it obvious why they are so popular in France. “We flew for 11 hours to be here” yelled the backup singer “just to come and perform for you” and you could see they felt it was worth it.
Once again a change in tempo as I rushed off to see The Whole Drum Truth. Four grandfathers of the drums collaborated to bring us a fantastic jazz experience. Once I had shrugged off the stiffness of the pay stage, I felt nothing but admiration. All smartly dressed in suits and playing only drums, the music was seamless and smooth as old whiskey.
On my way back to get refreshments, I popped in to see MXO. Handsome and talented, this young man represents a new wave of African artists with his fusion of soul and kwaito and the young girls were swooning in the front row.
The outdoor stage was my next destination, to see the Tony Schilider Trio and Friends before the headline event for the evening. Again the crowd was loving it, and reminiscent of the crowd before Ernie Smith on Saturday, everyone sang and danced and swayed under the stars.
By the time I got to the main stage, the auditorium was heaving with thousands of anxious fans. So keen were they to hear music they roared every time the sound check guys banged a cymbal or one-two’d into the mic. Eventually they burst into a rousing rendition of Shosholoza to entertain themselves.
Enter the Commodores, in spangly black suits with glittery buckles and glitter stripes and rope featured padded jackets, with Lional Richie hairdos and shiny shoes, strutting on stage with all the attitude and presence of world famous musicians. When they bust “Nightshift” the aunties were in heaven…”Jackie!…
But there was more to see and after a few songs I went to check out Pete Philly & Perquisite feat Benjamin Herman from the Dutch hip hop scene. I was wondering whether the singer was American but realized he’s probably learned English from MTV. It sounded a little strange coming from a Dutch band but all in all they were good and the thinning crowd were enjoying and getting down to the hip hop business at hand.
Finally I dragged my festival weary bones down to wrap up the festival for the second performance of the much anticipated second performance of Simphiwe Dana. Beautiful and graceful in gold and green and blowing kisses to her friends in the crowd, it is easy to see how this 23 year old has stolen the heart of the SA music scene. It is great to see that while we are celebrating our old divas, we are cultivating a new wave of SA artists. They need our support and love and we need them too.
And so the curtain fell on the festival line up and I left exhilarated and exhausted.
* disclaimer: the author of this article accepts no responsibility for damages or hurt feelings caused by incorrect spelling or information. I cannot vouch at all for the reliability of my sources.
