178 7th Avenue South, Greenwich Village, New York is a place of magic. In a tiny basement, where you could cram no more than two hundred people if everyone breathes in, is a speakeasy, The Village Vanguard. It started hosting folk concerts from 1937. By the forties, jazz featured more often and from the 1950s onwards, The Village became the premier jazz venue. All the greats played there. Thelonius Monk’s week long residency helped break him to a wider audience. Bill Evans was a regular. Thad Jones-Mel Lewis Orchestra performed so often on Mondays from 1966 to 1990, it morphed into the Vanguard Jazz Orchestra.
The venue is in the shape of an isosceles triangle with a small angle between the two equal sides. The stage is situated at that point in the triangle. As a consequence, the acoustics are special, the source of the magic. The musicians are touching distance from the audience, even spilling into the front tables if the band has more than a few members. The official capacity is 123. The combination of perfect acoustics and intimacy with audience is inspirational to a jazz musician who thrives on improvisation.
Sonny Rollins was among the first to record there. On Way Out West, he had invented a technique called ‘strolling’. He would solo over a rhythm created by bass and drum alone, no piano. On the 3rd November 1957, he played three sets with two different rhythm sections, showcasing his strolling. He plays with a wit and a playfulness with time that reflected his warm personality. The other four musicians more than support him. Elvin Jones evening performances influenced many a hard bop drummer.
The audience isn’t always appreciative. In 1961, having finally left Miles Davis, John Coltrane revealed his new direction. Controversially, the future he saw included Eric Dolphy. The critics felt the music was “nonsense” and “anti-jazz”, that belonged in the “wood shed”. He didn’t even play his most popular song, My Favorite Things. Four nights in November were captured for posterity, so you can judge for yourself. The Master Takes is my favourite jazz album. I think it’s so good, I commissioned @pencilsqueezer to capture its sound in a painting, the most beautiful painting I own.
There have been more than a hundred albums recorded there. The drapes haven’t been changed for forty years. It’s become a shrine, a place of pilgrimage for any jazz fan. However, it is still going, still hosting concerts, still putting the microphones up to capture a band inspired by its magic.
Which venues are the most to magical to The Afterword?
While you ponder…Thad Jones & Mel Lewis Orchestra – All My Yesterdays: The Debut 1966 Recordings At The Village Vanguard has been officially released on CD. In tribute to @duco01, it is my number one historical recording of the year so far, a tremendous record. Here’s a nine minute mini documentary describing it in more detail.
Magical musical venues? More mythology than momentous, more opportunistic than opportune. At the risk of being wrong, never a concern, it’s true, hitherto, but venues are venues are venues, often more accident than purpose. Of course, for sure, as or if they take off, so the mystique magnifies. And, yes, some of them will then attract the recording van and will transform dodgy acoustics into a thing of wonder. The nostalgia is then guaranteed. Add to that the undoubted thrill of the exotic: in the UK that means New York, and any dilapidated basement becomes fabled. Whenever I go to New York, and it has been a while, I try to factor in a concert. Thus such names of awe as the Bottom Line (R.I.P.) and the Bowery Ballroom have been visited. And they are fine, glad I’ve been. But no better than any regional theatre over here. In fact, I would go as far as to say that if you have enjoyed a show, transference of that enjoyment sticks to the venue.
That’s enough of me dissing the Vanguard, despite never having been, where do I like over here? An old theatre is often the best, the greater the shabbiness the better. Picturedrome, Holmfirth comes to mind. Shepherds Bush Empire, The Institue, B’ham. Otherwise happy with pubs with rooms: Hare and Hounds, Rainbow in Brum for two. Sound is important but atmosphere can make up for a lot.
Enormodomes like the NEC and NIA? Never, except sometimes that is all there is.
Acoustics are important. I’ve got loads of live albums, several recorded at other ‘legendary’ NY venues, Filmore East, Apollo, Carnegie Hall, Five Spot. None compare to the Village Vanguard for the quality of sound. The atmosphere is warm and intimate no matter who is playing and how engaged the audience. The bass always sounds tremendous.
Take Bill Evans recordings form 25th June 1961, which make up two albums, Sunday At The Village Vanguard and Waltz For Debby. These albums are Bill Evans’s best but they are most remarkable for Scott LaFaro’s bass masterclass (Paul Motian played drums). The best tracks are those composed by Scott and even though the act is billed as The Bill Evans Trio, Scott takes the lead throughout. You don’t get such perfect recordings of bass in a studio, let alone in other live venues.
Almost forgot to mention. He died eight days later in a road traffic accident.
I don’t think a gig was ever played there. New York again, Lower 23rd St. Bob Dylan, of course (writing Sad Eyed Lady of The Lowlands… for you!) but also the other Dylan (I think that’s a record) and Ginsberg, and Leonard and Kris and Janis (I met her in the elevator. She said I’m here to sleep with Kris Kristofferson, who are you? And I said, I’m Kris Kristofferson.) Dee Dee Ramone lived there, Tom Waits, Iggy, Patti, fucking Brendan Behan. And poor stupid Sid, Room 101…
The first place I stayed on my first ever trip to New York. It was a shit hole but I remember it well, the Chelsea Hotel.
Still is, apparently.
The Electric Banana, Greenwich Village
Don’t look for it, its not there anymore
OK. Good tip. Did you witness any gigs there?
Not just the sight – the sound, the smell …
I would mention Massey Hall in Toronto, not a bad seat in the house, marvellous acoustics and legends have played there. However if you find yourself needing the bathroom when in the upper balcony the nearest one is in the basement and there’s a long line, leg room not great either …
I love La Metropole in Montreal, bordering on a seedy part of town,again great acoustics and get there early enough and you can have a table close to the action with (extremely attractive) waitresses bringing you drinks of your choice whenever you need.
We’ve had this conversation before. I’ve visited Toronto a few times (their jazz festival is wonderful). It’s a beautiful place full of lovehey. However, you make Montreal sound so enticing, a place for proper Rock & Roll!
I went to the Village Vanguard about 10 years ago and it is a magical place. I’m not sure whether it’s all the expectations I had from listening to so many classic albums recorded there, or that it lives up to the perfect jazz club ambience – intimate, perfect sound, a little sleazy and run down – but I thought it was a great venue for live music.
I saw the Bill Charlap trio – a superb, stately pianist with the peerless Kenny/Pete Washington rhythm section – and he was excellent. Slight edge taken off by having two of my kids in tow – heavily jet lagged, they veered between fitful sleep and hysterics at the sage nodding of the aging hep cats on the adjoining table.
Other magical venues: I used to like The Limit in Sheffield and currently the Apex in Bury St Edmunds – probably not magical but a superb venue for live music.
When I went, there were no children there but the audience and the band were surprisingly youthful. Rudy Royston played a great set and signed my CD. He took quite some time as he made his initials RR into drums and sticks. I bought the Village Vanguard T-shirt but have never worn it.
I saw Michael Chapman last Friday at the Count House, St. Just.
He played in a marquee in front of about 100 people, and during the interval pretty much everyone walked down to the old mines that used to go under the sea, to stare at the sunset.
And I got my first autograph since Marianne Faithfull in Dublin in 1991! He looked quizzically at my ‘Rainmaker’ CD (’69), saying he’d never seen it before and asking who had released it.
Sounds heavenly.
Is that The Flower Kings album?