Cape Town’s hidden jazz history is coming alive due to research undertaken at the District Six Museum Helene Dancer Jazz vocalist Maxine Tyler left Cape Town’s ill-fated District Six in 1963. Before she moved, she made a recording that she never heard. Last year, on her return to Cape Town, Tyler listened to her own album for the first time. ”It just blew her completely,” says Colin Miller, who was in the studio the day she heard the recording. Miller was responsible for Tyler’s experience, thanks to his project to document and archive the story of jazz in Cape Town. ”The great thing about this archive is that we’ve uncovered artists’ recordings like Tyler’s,” he says. ”I got hold of Tyler’s album because one of the people I interviewed had it.” Miller works in the capacity of collection developer for Cape Town’s District Six Museum. For two-and-a-half years now, his focus has been on collecting sound artefacts, from music and oral history to recording ambient sounds. This Thursday afternoon, in the quiet of the District Six Museum, strains of jazz issue from his office. Miller is spending the morning with jazzphile Ants Kirsipuu, listening to unarchived jazz recordings and attempting to document both the artists and the pieces. Miller and Kirsipuu are not only jazz enthusiasts, but both play jazz guitar. Miller completed a jazz degree at the University of Cape Town in 1992 and Kirsipuu boasts receiving lessons from South African jazz great Johnnie Fourie. Together, their love for the art form is both building a base for musical reunion, as in Tyler’s case, and creating a comprehensive documentation, which has not existed before. ”There’s not much written about Cape jazz,” says Miller. ”There is very little information. Jazz has been docu mented especially well in Johannesburg, but not really here in Cape Town. Cape Town’s story is known through Abdullah Ibrahim and Morris Goldberg. ”Through my work, I’m trying to bring out the fact that Cape Town is a central part of the story of jazz,” he says. ”During the Forties and Fifties the musicians here were in contact with sailors and soldiers from the ships. We actually have photos of bands playing with the sailors. What happened in Cape Town then is actually an extension of what jazz is, in all its hybrid forms.” The recordings he and Kirsipuu listen to today in Miller’s office are from a collection that was bequeathed to Kirsipuu by Cape Town born jazz saxophonist Don Miller, who died last year. ”I met him when I came to South Africa in 1951,” says Kirsipuu, flashing his many teeth as he smiles.
”Don introduced me to Cape Town jazz and by extension, to South African jazz. We used to go to the Navigator’s Den, which was a jazz Mecca, where people jammed till all hours. He smiles again and nods at Miller, displaying the musical cameraderie they share. ”Eight years ago I moved to Cape Town and by sheer accident, I came into contact with Don.” But before he finishes the story, Kirsipuu’s eyes become even more animated. He looks at Miller and says, ”That’s it!” pointing at the tape player. ”The song is called My Favourite Things”, and Miller agrees, quickly typing the title into his computer. They begin to discuss the featured musicians, immersing themselves back into the days when this jazz was ripe. Kirsipuu resumes his story but his foot continues to tap and Miller’s knee moves to the same rhythm. ”Don died last year,” said Kirsipuu, ”and he left me his entire collection of tapes. We had discussed it before with the possibility of building a collection of the history of jazz in South Africa.”
At that same time, Miller was developing his own ideas on jazz research. One such project was a 10-minute documentary of sound recordings he had collected, which were used as an installation for an exhibition at the District Six Museum last year.
”I had focused for two years on documenting the history of jazz in Cape Town in the 1950s and 1960s, interviewing a number of musicians and collecting photos and recordings that were featured in the installation. Such musicians included saxophonist Harold Jephta,” he says. ”And it’s his brother Kenny playing on this song,” interjects Kirsipuu, pointing to the tape player once again.
Miller and Kirsipuu were both present at the installation and they then had the idea to create the jazz collection they are working on today. They began collaborating in February this year and meet once a week to listen to jazz. ”I collect material and we listen to it and try to find out who’s on the recording,” says Miller. A Stan Getz piece begins and they launch into another musical diatribe, including the past, bossanova and the fact that many of the musicians Miller has interviewed have died. ”They all performed so long ago,” says Miller, 0and Kirsipuu offers another of his big smiles and says, ”I’m not sure how long I’m going to be here!”
As Stan Getz fades out, their attention turns back to the interview and Miller attempts to define Cape Town jazz stylistically, ”but to define it is difficult,” he says. ”My take is that before Cape musicians started with wind instruments, they played predominantly string instruments. Between the two wars, most musicians went to the army camps for training and therefore came back playing brass. They essentially took the string style and transferred it to brass. They imitated the violin vibrato effect – and for me, that way of phrasing is what these guys did on sax.” Miller also believes the Cape Town jazz rhythm is definitive. ”There are many different music forms happening in Cape Town, and many of these were formed in District Six,” he says. ”Malay choirs, Christmas choirs… and each has specific sounds. There is also the ghoemma rhythm which is a special rhythm played on the ghoemma drum in the Klopse Carnival.” Kirsipuu adds there is also a Latin American rhythmic influence – the ”boera conga”, as he calls it. A blues piece begins and quiets the conversation immediately. ”I’ve got it!” exclaims Kirsipuu. ”It’s the Kolsher blues!” Miller quickly types this information into his computer, oblivious to anything else in the room. The Kolsher blues evokes a sense of poignancy in the atmosphere and Kirsipuu points towards Miller and says affectionately, ”this is his show.” Miller’s equanimity is knocked slightly by the pleasure he derives from this compliment. ”What I really want to stress,” he says, ”is that all of this archived material is for public access. It does not just sit in the archives, as we make copies and circulate it.” Miller’s story shows that archives are not just about documenting history. Maxine Tyler’s experience illustrates how a dynamic archive has brought Cape Town jazz history back to life again. The District Six Museum is at 25A Buitenkant Street, Cape Town, Tel: (021) 461E8745