Volume 26 Issue 1 - September 2020

Mark Micklethwaite, Steve
Wallace and Mark(Merv)
Eisenman, shaking out the
covid cobwebs at John and
Patti Loach’s home. Hear Body
and Soul from that session
at youtu.be/qnLn-ydOdUQ
Getting Back On the Horse
With even more free time I grew determined to be more active
and was itching to play. As if reading my mind, drummer Mark
Micklethwaite, who has taken John Sumner’s place in Mark
Eisenman’s trio, emailed Merv (Eisenman) and me with a loose plan
for doing some recording and maybe trying to drum up some work
and touring in the future once it was safe. He had some good ideas and
we all agreed that in the meantime we should get together to play and
shake the cobwebs off at Merv’s house the following week. I looked
forward to it, but with no small trepidation: I’d done some practising
but hadn’t played with anybody for real since early March. Would I be
up to it? Would my softer hands do what I wanted them to? Would my
back hold up? The morning of, putting the cover on the bass, carrying
it out of the house and loading it in the car – which I’ve done countless
times – seemed weirdly foreign, like I was sleepwalking.
After exchanging greetings and some jazz banter, the music began
without any planning or so much as a word. Mark Micklethwaite
simply started playing time with brushes at a medium tempo and I fell
in, walking a blues in – what else? – B-flat. Eisenman was nowhere
near the piano so the two of us just continued swinging until Mark
joined us at the top of a chorus; then off we sailed. We must have
played that blues for 10 or 11 minutes, but nobody was counting. In
fact, as is always the case when jazz players are really locked in and
concentrating, really listening to one another and building, the notion
of a clock simply disappeared. It felt just great to be playing with these
two again; there’s an unspoken musical consensus amongst us, a trust
which I had deeply missed. And even without any people listening,
there was sweat and intensity, everyone was playing their best because
we hadn’t done it for so long, we were almost afraid of failing. It was
as if someone had flipped a switch or plugged the jazz intravenous into
our veins after months off; it was the most satisfying musical experience
I’d had in a long time.
Mind you, a medium blues in B-flat is relatively simple, but on the
other hand its starkness means there’s nowhere to hide, especially in
a trio, and I felt like we passed the test. Perhaps more importantly, it
was fun, a lot more fun than practising. It wasn’t all smooth sailing for
me, though, I noticed definite signs of rust and fatigue as we played
faster tempos and tunes with more complex harmonies. I’d lost some
speed and dexterity and sometimes I stumbled on solos when my
fingers couldn’t quite catch up to my ideas, or vice versa. I realized I
needed to practise more and with greater intensity, but now I had the
motivation to do so.
We’ve played once a week ever since but switched locales when
John and Patti Loach generously offered their house as a venue. It’s
a great place to play with a terrific piano and good acoustics, plus
John wanted to experiment with recording the drums, as most of
the recording he’s done hasn’t involved drummers. It helps a lot that
Micklethwaite is such a sensitive player with good dynamic control.
John also had some video cameras set up and has posted some of the
videos on YouTube. Here’s one of our earlier efforts, Cherokee, which
has the advantage of no camera coverage of the bassist, who has a face
made for radio and a rear end made for a wide-angle lens:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0R10kJACL_I
Returning to the coming end of summer … it used to mean going
back to school and still does, sort of. And there’s the rub. With everything
still up in the air and the real possibility of a surge in the virus
coming with flu season; and with cooler weather on top of a bunch
of people suddenly in close proximity again, the return to school is
fraught with anxiety and uncertainty, to say the least. I’ll be teaching
an ensemble and some private lessons again at U of T, which, at least
in the jazz department has left the choice of in-person or virtual
teaching up to individuals. Most of the classes will be taught online,
but it’s trickier with private lessons and especially ensembles. I’m
grappling with the decision and for now have opted for teaching my
ensemble and the two private students who aren’t bassists in person,
and the two bass students online. This could all change suddenly if
things get worse so I’m negotiating the never-ending technological
learning curve as a back-up plan. Old dog, new tricks.
Pandamit
The title for this article came about as follows: Back in late May there
was a knock on my door and when I opened it I was very pleasantly
surprised to see Pat Williams, a staunch jazz fan and friend for many
years. It was great to see her and I asked her in but she demurred,
saying “I’m parked illegally across the street and I have a lot more of
these to deliver,” handing me a black T-shirt with PANDAMIT written
in big block letters. It broke
me up and she said “Georgia
Ambros had them made up
and we’re giving them to
our musician friends.” And
I thought, with humour
and people like this, maybe,
just maybe, we’ll be okay
after all.
Toronto bassist Steve
Wallace writes a blog
called “Steve Wallace jazz,
baseball, life and other
ephemera” which can
be accessed at Wallacebass.com.
Aside from
the topics mentioned,
he sometimes writes
about movies and food.
JOHN LOACH ANNA MALANDRINO
24 | September 2020 thewholenote.com