It happened again last night.
I was presented with the need, the opportunity — the pleasure, actually — to explain why the New Orleans JazzFest isn’t just about jazz in the sense most people might think.
I was at a meeting I regularly attend on Tuesday nights, and a subject came up, which caused me to weigh in with an example centered around my upcoming sojourn, an annual trek, to the Crescent City for JazzFest. After the meeting, I was asked, “I didn’t know you liked jazz so much.”
It’s far from the first time, since this will be my 28th experience with my favorite thing to do in life, and I tend to proselytize more than a bit about it. My usual spiel kicked in.
“It’s not all jazz, that’s just what it’s called. The New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Fair actually. Yes, there’s a tent with jazz as you would consider it. But also the Economy Hall tent, just featuring traditional New Orleans jazz, which most call Dixieland. And there’s a Blues Tent. And a Gospel Tent. And the Congo Square Stage, featuring Third World music, R & B, Hip Hop, Bounce, Soul and Funk. And the Fais Do Do Stage, where there’s Cajun and bluegrass and zydeco and folk and rockabilly.
“And the two big stages, where the Big Name Acts appear, the ones the promoters put on the bill to attract folks not all that familiar with the resonance of the indigenous music of the Birthplace of American Music. This year, it’s Santana an Clapton and Phish and Sprinsteen et al. So, yeah, there’s rock & roll and pop too.
“The bigger New Orleans acts also play those two “main” stages. Like Trombone Shorty, Fats Domino, Dr. John, the Nevilles, Allen Toussaint, Voice of Wetlands All-Stars.
“There’s a Jazz & Heritage Stage, where you can hear Mardi Gras Indian ensembles in full regalia, and all the brass bands that have grown out of the funeral tradition in the last score of years.
“The Lagniappe Stage features eclectic acts beyond categorization, up and comers and other assorted talents which don’t fit anywhere else.”
I’ll end my little primer with something like, “It’s jazz in the broadest sense of the word. And, JazzFest, in case you haven’t noticed, is my favorite thing to do, the gravitational pull of my year.”
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The other question I get a lot, which my piano teacher Chris Bizianes happened to ask me this very morning.
“Who you looking forward to hearing?”
To which, I usually reply with something like, “Oh, I really like a lot of the local New Orleans acts you’ve never heard of. Topsy Chapman. Aurora Nealand, a horn player who leads both a traditional New Orleans jazz band, and is in a punk band.
“A lot of people go for the big acts. As the years go by, I tend to hang out more and more at the little stages, catching groups I’ve never heard before, groups from Africa or the Caribbean or Cajun Country.
“Here’s my classic story to explain that. A few years back, the Allman Brothers Band played the big stage. They’re my favorite band ever. My gang was at Lagniappe, listening to the New Orleans Klezmer All-Stars. They do not play Aunt Bubbie’s klezmer, that’s only the starting point. It’s a fusion of that and funk and reggae and R & B with a twist of Ornette Coleman. All danceable.
“Never made it over to the Allmans. Whom, everyone advised who heard them, played a great set.”
That’s the essence of JazzFest. Music, some of which you might know, a lot of which you don’t, on eleven stages from 11:00 am — not a typo — to 7:00 pm next Friday thru Sunday. Then again the following weekend from Thursday through Sunday.
You want the whole schedule, check it out here.
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And, oh yeah, there’s food out there too.
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And, the whole deal is all self contained inside the Fairgrounds Race Track, which they turn into this annual wonderland.
Here’s the layout, which you can probably see better here if interested:
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So, there it is again, the primer.
Damn, I love that festival.
Having done it for over a quarter century, I’ve postulated each of the last few years that it might be my last. It’s time to do something else, I’d try to convince myself, this adventure has run its course.
Even this year, I wavered. Until, that is, the final episode of “Treme,” at the conclusion of which I sat in my recliner balling.
“God,” I said to myself, “I love that town, that music, JazzFest. How could I possibly think of not going?”
It’s too late to stop now.
– c d kaplan