Last weekend at the North Sea Jazz Festival, the Good Hope Centre floated on a cloud of sheer contentment
Karen Rutter
Only the most mean-spirited, music- hating, non-mellow bastard would be able to find fault with Cape Town’s finest moment this year, the North Sea Jazz Festival.
Undoubtedly a success on the kind of scale which left punters swooning at the smoothness of it all, and organisers feeling very smug indeed, this was an utterly magnificent achievement on the part of everybody involved – from audience members who demonstrated enthusiastic support (and stamina!), to Cape Town company ESP and The Netherlands-based North Sea co-sponsors, who pulled off what many thought was just a pipe dream. After all, the list of cancelled concerts in this country is something of an embarrassment. It could easily have happened again.
But not this time. More than 30 acts, four major stages, thousands of fans. All co-ordinated as sweetly as a Courtney Pine saxophone riff. Even the sound was good, in a venue notorious for its awful acoustics.
Okay, there were minor gripes concerning the ticket price, and some people felt the event could have started and ended earlier. Also, Busi Mhlongo missed her flight and had to be accommodated at the end of the programme. But in the grander scheme of things, these were hardly big hiccups.
With practically nothing to worry about, then, the only problem that remained was one of logistics. How to catch as many showcases as possible, within a programme that offered so much?
The structure of the festival allowed one to catch snippets of virtually every act, if one cruised swiftly from venue to venue. But it was all too easy to get swept up in the moment, and not want to move.
When the New Cool Collective was burning up calories at a manic pace on the Baseline stage, it was impossible not to get glued to the absurdly frenetic finger-glides of guitarist Anton Goudsmit as the band pumped out a hard wall of funk behind him. And yet in the Rosies hall, acclaimed pianist/saxophonist Bheki Mseleku was doing incredible things with Vusi Khumalo on drums and Feya Faku on trumpet. Meanwhile singer Letta Mbulu was working out with an Afro-jazz orchestra in the Kippies amphitheatre, and outside on the Manenberg’s stage the Hotep Idris Galeta Quintet was impressing the crowds with sophisticated strides. And that was just one segment of a two-night festival. Talk about being spoiled for choice …
Without exception, all the musicians delivered. They may have been experimenting with the trance side of contemporary sound (Nagual), blowing up a township storm (Winston Mankunku) or driving eardrums crazy with outrageously slick funk arrangements (the aforementioned New Cool Collective) – but the common denominator was class. Perhaps it was the presence of so many hot musicians under one roof that pushed each act to reach for new extremes. Or perhaps they’re all just shit-hot, anyway.
Whatever the reasons, everybody ripped. And they all got massive applause, whether local or international. While one expected keyboardist Herbie Hancock to be greeted with godlike respect, it was as satisfying to know that South African guitarist Jimmy Dludlu drew equally admiring applause. Such was the spirit of the festival.
Speaking of Hancock, he cooked. Mixing hardcore fusion with delicate precision, the keyboard maestro proved he’s still got the kind of chops to keep young jazz lions on their toes. Or the edge of their piano stools. Choosing a thinky repertoire that was executed with elegant flair, Hancock played like he knew his audience had the intelligence to follow.
While Hancock tickled the more cerebral side of the synapses, he was more than matched in sheer warmth and exuberance by acid-jazz guitarist Ronnie Jordan and Brazilian keyboardist/singer Tania Maria, both of whom had the crowds shouting for more.
Maria, whose phenomenally upbeat Latin vibes and cheerful party dress caused instant adoration from the masses, reckoned over a drink later that she wasn’t really a jazz musician. “I play music – it’s got a bit of samba, it’s got a bit of bossa, it’s got a bit of a beat.” But it also swings to an unmistakably jazzy vibe. She was just being humble, I reckon.
Like so many of the greats were. Courtney Pine, whose contemporary saxophone acrobatics had jaws dropping, kept thanking the organisers for getting it all together. We should have been thanking him, for delivering a kick-ass set with a band that took new jazz onto another level altogether.
It’s hard to make a complete rundown of the programme – and anyway, it would just make all those who missed it jealous – but picking out select memories includes the sight of DJ Ready D mixing and scratching it up with Gramadoelas, Roy Hargrove demonstrating how far one can go with a trumpet, pianist Moses Taiwa Molelekwa proving why he’s such hot property, and Youssou N’Dour with his stunning Super Etoile band making us wish they’d come back again soon.
Thing about the North Sea festival was, it was so damn diverse and yet so unified at the same time. And by the end of the weekend, the same could probably be said of the audience.
Drawn together by the magical threads of a music experience unparalleled in this country, we left the Good Hope Centre on a warm and woozy cloud of sheer contentment. Smiles all around. And enough aural stimulation to keep us going until next year. Which is when it all happens again.
Until North Sea Jazz 2001, then …