Tous les chemins mènent à Rome!

(scroll down for English version)

Je n’épiloguerai pas sur la minutie des documents à remplir pour pouvoir prendre l’avion, en constante mutation. Pas plus sur les hôtes et hôtesses au sol dont la diplomatie est, pour le moins, mise à rude épreuve. Encore moins sur les compagnies aériennes qui ont, pour certaines, perdu le fil d’Ariane… Suive le virus qui peut! Toujours est-il qu’un vol direct New York – Rome peut se faire en 18 heures chrono, à condition d’atterrir à Milan pour alors pouvoir prendre le train qui vous emmènera tranquillement jusqu’à la cité romaine : nous sommes de retour en Italie!

David n’avait pas joué depuis plus de dix ans à Rome, au moins. Quand je lui parle d’Italie, sa mémoire remonte spontanément aux années 1970-1980, les années Black Saint* où il jouait beaucoup en Italie, avec son octet en particulier. La majorité des concerts avaient lieu en plein air ou dans des théâtres de type La Scala où l’acoustique est remarquable, mais peu dans les clubs « because it’s hard to fit eight pieces ». Les conditions de tournée étaient alors assez différentes d’aujourd’hui, plus simples me semble-t-il : « I would have a promoter for each country. It was nice because I didn’t have to play them against each other. I just would say "I need to play with my octet for a week in your country." I’d buy first class euro passes in the States, we would travel by train, Milan was the last stop in Italy. By the time we would get there, the music was thrown away: each tune’s gotten slicker, more refined. I wanted the band to sound like they weren’t reading the music anymore. You can hear the difference on recordings when guys really know the music… That was the 80s! Now I have an Italian agent. It is important for my resurgence in Europe, including the Italian scene which I miss. » Il est vrai que depuis que David travaille avec un agent italien, j’ai la douce impression que l’Italie est devenue notre seconde maison.

Le concert du 28 août faisait partie de la programmation du festival 2021 de Casa Del Jazz, jeune institution installée dans un superbe domaine ayant appartenu à la mafia : des

plaques commémoratives, noms et photos de victimes, sont affichés sur un des murs de l’entrée du parc. Confisqué par l’État en 2001, il a été transformé quelques années plus tard en maison du jazz, un restaurant branché accueillant aussi la jeunesse romaine bobo de l’autre côté de son parc. La roue tourne, pour les hommes comme pour les biens immobiliers!

Tout en apparence était semblable aux festivals auxquels le trio a participé jusque là, si ce n’est les loges privées de restauration, nouvelle mesure anti-covidienne. Les trois mêmes musiciens jouaient sur une scène spectaculaire de structure métallique, surplombée d’arbres géants, la qualité du son était excellente, les éclairages flatteurs et le public nombreux et réceptif… C’est juste que la musique racontait une histoire différente, autrement créative, sans démonstration aucune, dégagée du ciselage de détails parfois superflus.

Je pensais naïvement que c’était lié au grand plaisir des musiciens à se retrouver sur scène après une pause de quelques semaines. Je me disais aussi que c’était un effet du répertoire rodé maintenant, d’une part entre David et Hamid Drake qui se connaissent parfaitement et, d’autre part, avec Brad Jones, nouvel élément dans l’univers de David, qui entre maintenant tout entier dans la danse : son solo d’introduction à Metouka Sheli, Ballad for Adrienne, pizzicato et à l’archet, était à pleurer de beauté.

Bien sûr, tout cela entrait en jeu, mais le comment du pourquoi du supplément d’âme apporté ce soir-là m’a été expliqué plus tard par Hamid : leur positionnement sur scène avait changé, balayant ainsi des tensions inutiles. Comme ils étaient tous trois plus proches dans l’espace, Hamid ne dépendait plus tant du moniteur** pour écouter ses partenaires : il entendait le son acoustique du saxophone et de la contrebasse, de la subtilité du doigté de Brad sur les cordes. « We were like a close triangle, it was very good for me. It was a whole other vibration. You’re still able to play volumes but energetically. It just felt very intimate. »

Leur proximité nous avait tous déplacés dans un espace intime, la dimension publique ajoutant ceci pour les musiciens qu’elle engage à se dépasser. Nous, spectateurs gâtés, nous sommes laissé cueillir par cette magie musicale, évocation pour moi de la seconde d’éternité du baiser de Prévert au parc Montsouris, mais au parc de la Villa Osio,

A Rome

Sur la terre

La terre qui est un astre. ***

3 septembre 2021, Sardaigne

*Label de jazz italien mythique avec lequel David a enregistré une trentaine d’albums

** enceinte placée au sol devant chacun des trois musiciens et qui leur permet

d’entendre par retour ce que les autres jouent.

*** clin d’œil à Jacques Prévert, poème « Le jardin »

(Des milliers et des milliers d’années/Ne saurait suffire/Pour dire/La petite seconde

d’éternité/Où tu m’as embrassé/Où je t’ai embrassée/Un matin dans la lumière de

l’hiver/Au parc Montsouris à Paris/À Paris/Sur la terre/La terre qui est un astre.)

photos: 1- Rome 2- plaque commémorative à la Villa Osio 3- The Brave New World Trio sur scène au festival de Casa Del Jazz

All roads lead to Rome!

I won’t drone on and on about the thoroughness of the documents we had to fill out just in order to get on an airplane, the details required therein being in a state of constant mutation. Nor will I dwell on the stewards and stewardesses on the ground, whose diplomacy was severely tested, to say the least. I will say even less about the airline companies that have, in some cases, completely lost the Ariane’s thread… Keep pace with the virus, if you can! The fact remains that a direct flight from New York to Rome can be

made in 18 hours flat, provided that you land in Milan and then take the train that take

you tranquilly to the Roman city: in other words, we’re back in Italy!

David hadn’t played in Rome in over 10 years, if not more. When I speak to him about Italy, his memories spontaneously go back to the 1970s and 1980s, the Black Saint* years when he often played in Italy, particularly with his octet. Most of the concerts were held outdoors or in theatres like La Scala, where the acoustics are remarkable, but very few were held in clubs “because it’s hard to fit eight pieces in.” Tour conditions were thus quite different from today’s, and I would say simpler as well: “I would have a promoter for each country. It was nice because I didn’t have to play them against each other. I just would say ‘I need to play with my octet for a week in your country.’ I’d buy first class euro-passes in the States, we would travel by train, Milan was the last stop in Italy. By the time we would get there, the music was thrown away: each tune’s gotten slicker, more refined. I wanted the band members to sound like they weren’t reading the music anymore. You can hear the difference on recordings when guys really know the music… That was the 80s! Now I have an Italian agent. It is important for my resurgence in Europe, including the Italian scene which I miss.” It’s true that since David has been working with an Italian agent, I’ve had the pleasant impression that Italy has become our second home.

The concert on August 28 was part of the 2021 Casa Del Jazz festival programming. Casa Del Jazz is a relatively new institution located on a superb estate that once belonged to

the Mafia: commemorative plaques, names and photos of victims, are affixed at the park’s entrance. Confiscated by the government in 2001, it was transformed a few years later into a house of jazz, a trendy restaurant that also attracks Rome’s hipster youth on the other side of the park. The wheel turns, for mankind as well as for real estate!

In appearance it was the same as the festivals the trio had participated in up until now, except the dressing rooms were deprived of any catering, a new anti-Covid measure. The same three musicians played on a spectacularly structured metal stage, mount olympusly protected by giant trees; the sound quality was excellent, the lighting flattering, and the audience large and receptive… It’s just that the music went elsewhere, differently creative, changing currents obtusely, without flare, liberated from sometimes-superfluous details.

My naivety led me to think that this was linked to the musicians’ great pleasure at finding themselves back on stage after a break of several weeks. I also thought that it was the result of a rolling repertoire, firstly between David and Hamid Drake who know each other so well and secondly, with Brad Jones, a new element in David’s universe, a man who now fully enters into the dance. The beauty of his solo introducing Metouka Sheli, Ballad for Adrienne, pizzicato and arco, was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Of course, all this entered into play, but the how and why of the extra measure of soul brought that evening was explained to me later by Hamid: their positioning on stage had tightened, thereby eliminating deterrent tensions. Since all three of them were placed closer together, Hamid no longer had to rely so heavily on the monitor** to hear his partners: he heard the acoustic sound of the saxophone and of the bass, of the subtlety of Brad’s fingers on the strings. “We were like a close triangle; it was very good for me. It was a whole other vibration. You’re still able to play volumes but energetically. It just felt very intimate.”

Their proximity transported us all into an intimate space, the energetic presence of the audience propelling musicians beyond themselves, past the fringes of intimacy. We, fortunates, allowed ourselves to be taken in by the magic in the music. For me, it was an evocation of the famous kiss in Jacques Prévert’s poem in Paris: it felt like a short second of eternity, but this time,

In Rome

On Earth

The Earth that is a star. ***

September 3, 2021, Sardenia

*Legendary Italian jazz label with which David recorded some 30 albums

** A speaker set on the ground in front of each of the three musicians, enabling them to hear back what the others are playing.

*** With a wink and a nod to Jacques Prévert famous poem, “Le jardin”

(Des milliers et des milliers d’années/Ne saurait suffire/Pour dire/La petite seconde

d’éternité/Où tu m’as embrassé/Où je t’ai embrassée/Un matin dans la lumière de

l’hiver/Au parc Montsouris à Paris/À Paris/Sur la terre/La terre qui est un astre.)

photos: 1- Rome 2- commémorative plaque, Villa Osio 3- The Brave New World Trio on stage, Casa Del Jazz festival