Here Comes Treble: Cool Music
...The afternoon’s artists were the Charles du Plessis trio: Charles on piano, Werner Spies on ‘stick’ bass and Hugo Radyn on drums. Behind Hugo and a little to his left stood an ugly green hat-stand, with more arms than an octopus, bearing three battered hats. Next to it, on an old side-board, stood a pair of cowboy boots topped by a cowboy hat...
Isabel Bradley conveys the high delight of Sunday afternoon jazz in Johannesburg's Olde 'n New Antiques shop.
To read more of Isabel's well-tuned words please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/here_comes_treble/
One Sunday afternoon, Leon and I visited one of our favourite but quirky concert venues, the Olde ‘n New Antiques shop. Once a month an audience is invited there to listen to some of the best musicians in town. The Steinway is sublime to play and wonderful to hear. The audience is welcomed with tea, coffee, cool-drinks and wines, crunchy biscuits, crisps and marshmallows.
For concerts, the Steinway is situated close to a wall on which the names of the afternoon’s artists and their programme are written in coloured chalk. When an ensemble plays, musicians are grouped into the curve of the grand piano.
Antique and classic chairs, ranging from window seats, Chesterfields and,plush low ‘nursing’ chairs to beautifully ornate dining chairs, are positioned in semi-circular rows for the audience; this creates an elegant but relaxed, friendly atmosphere. An adjacent room has a large display of the most be beautiful gleaming antique furniture to browse through before the concert, during interval and afterwards. Saul, owner of the shop and impressario extraordinaire, introduces the musicians, often makes antique sales at the concert and from the very reasonable entrance fee, is able to pay the performers generously.
In mid-winter, on this uncharacteristically cloudy day in Johannesburg, there was no heating. Olde ‘n New is in an old house in the suburb of Richmond, close to the city and the universities. Saul has broken down the inside walls of the house and removed the ceilings, so one looks up at old rafters and a rusty corrugated-iron roof. The décor changes slightly with each concert.
On this occasion, a very old tricycle hung against the wall to the left of the chalked-in programme. On the other side were a couple of old mirrors in wooden frames, and a huge door leant drunkenly in a corner. Ghastly light-fittings of all shapes, sizes and colours, including one or two crystal chandeliers, hung from the rafters, providing varying degrees of light throughout the gloomy room.
A fascinatingly varied audience gradually took their seats, chatting and laughing, drinking wine and munching snacks. They were bundled in scarves, coats and hats against the cold which was mitigated only slightly by their combined body heat. There was an extraordinarily tall, young and glamorous Whoopie Goldberg look-alike a few seats away. In the front row, a young boy of about six cuddled on his mother’s lap. Several young men made fashion statements by keeping fancy golfing-caps on their heads, while others had hair-styles straight out of science-fiction movies. Older couples, gray- and white-haired, nodded and moved gently in time to the swinging jazz.
The afternoon’s artists were the Charles du Plessis trio: Charles on piano, Werner Spies on ‘stick’ bass and Hugo Radyn on drums. Behind Hugo and a little to his left stood an ugly green hat-stand, with more arms than an octopus, bearing three battered hats. Next to it, on an old side-board, stood a pair of cowboy boots topped by a cowboy hat. Lining walls and windows were cupboards, mirrors, cabinets, stools, pictures, bibelots…
The cold didn’t seem to worry the musicians. They were all dressed in black. Charles wore a velvet jacket and a black-and-white horizontally striped tie against his black shirt. He kept us chuckling with his dry whit all afternoon. “Looking at this jacket, you wouldn’t believe that I’m a starving, financially stressed musician… So, if there are any really rich, really old ladies in the audience who want to marry me and leave me all their wealth, I’ll be in the corner near the drinks cabinet at interval…” He also wrote all the arrangements for the music they played.
The ‘stick’ bass was an electronically-amplified instrument which consisted only of a neck similar to that of an acoustic double-bass, held in position by a long pin whose end disappeared into the pile of the wine-red carpet. Werner Spies played it as a normal jazz bass would be played. The pizzicato sounds were wonderful, deep, rich, and far more audible than an acoustic bass. Werner’s appearance matched his instrument to perfection. He was tall, thin and stick-like. His left hand meandered over the strings, looking like a giant four-legged spider spinning its web. Or, more accurately, like a stick-insect, all long, bony bits with knobby joints, seemingly awkward but in truth extraordinarily graceful.
The drummer, Hugo Radyn, was equally fascinating to watch. Very few men, or women, can multi-task as he did: his right hand made hushing sounds on ‘single’ cymbals, his left concentrated on the snare drum, one foot controlled the bass drum, the other clashed a set of opposed cymbals. Each body-part beat out a different and complex rhythm. He was terrific.
They played an arrangement by Charles of a piece by Bach. Charles opened the work, playing it almost as Bach wrote it, on solo piano rather than harpsichord, gazing up into the old rafters as if seeing a heavenly vision. The music’s delicate beauty was enhanced when the bass and drums finally joined in, gently and with great sensitivity, his improvisation was superb.
Dotted between jazz standards, including The Girl from Ipanema, the trio played other arrangements by Charles of classical music: the famous ‘Trout’ quintet theme by Schubert, and the March of the Toreadors from Carmen, by Bizet. They even played their own version of ‘Habañera’, containing “a little extra chilli and garlic”, as Charles put it.
Saul’s friend, Tony, helps at these Sunday events by serving wine and socialising. He’s become a good friend. Each time he sees me, he falls gracefully into a deep, ballet curtsey. At middle age, he still takes ballet classes to keep fit and supple, and I’m openly envious of his ability to curtsy so deeply. He brought me a bowl of marshmallows,knowing they’re a favourite indulgence. During interval, I watched as he plucked a stray crisp from a young woman’s ample bosom and presented it to her with an elegant half-bow. Then he turned to me, grinning and said, “That’s called aplomb!”
After the concert, the musicians bowed before a standing, whistling, cheering, clapping and stamping audience, then played a glorious encore, written by Charles.
As afternoon turned to evening and temperatures dropped, this diverse audience was warmed by marvellous music and the enthusiastic professionalism of three brilliant young musicians.*
*This wonderful trio will soon be travelling to Switzerland to bring their own style of classical jazz to a music festival in the alps.
Until next time… ‘here comes Treble!’
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By Isabel Bradley
