From 1965-1985 one of the New York metro area’s hotspots for live jazz was the Blue Coronet in Brooklyn – the Bedford-Stuyvesant community to be exact. Sometimes I wonder if perhaps Brooklyn should be labeled the Second City instead of Chicago, given the backseat that storied borough so often takes to its little sister Manhattan (Brooklyn being by far the bigger land mass). Case in point, while surfing the web in search of additional background on the Blue Coronet, consistently the only listing that shows up in a Google search is reference to a bootleg recording made there in 1969, about which more in a minute. The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz has a generally reliable series of pages under its Nightclubs entry that provides handy thumbnail sketches of various and sundry jazz clubs around the country, in major cities as well as smaller burghs… except for Brooklyn, where none of the borough’s jazz clubs are mentioned. And this is despite the fact that during a period in the 50s and 60s Brooklyn was alive with jazz clubs, particularly in the Bed-Stuy, an area that was home to a significant number of great jazz masters, including Eubie Blake, Max Roach, Randy Weston and Cecil Payne, and also including a certain trumpet player who spent many nights at the Blue Coronet and who as a younger man had lived in Bed-Stuy with the mother of his first child.

That Brooklyn disparity is one reason we’ve embarked on a research project of discovery into jazz in Bed-Stuy, essentially Central Brooklyn, for the Weeksville Heritage Center. In recent months The Independent Ear has excerpted lively interviews with some of the principles behind such legendary Brooklyn jazz venues as the East, and the current bastion known as Sista’s Place. However one joint preceded both of those homes to the music; the Blue Coronet has consistently been mentioned by both musicians, activists and fans alike as a home of great sounds. So we sought out Dickie Habersham-Bey, the owner-proprietor of the now-shuttered Blue Coronet. Though somewhat frail of health recently, Mr. Habersham-Bey gave some lively commentary on the Blue Coronet, including shedding some light on one of the more notorious nights in Miles Davis‘ storied odyssey. Read on…

Willard Jenkins: How did you come to own The Blue Coronet?

Dickie Habersham-Bey: The [original] Coronet closed down in 1965, it was in the same building at 1200 Fulton Street. I bought it about ’66 and opened it as The Blue Coronet. The first musician I opened up with was [pianist] Wynton Kelly, with Jimmy Cobb on drums and Paul Chambers on bass.

The Wynton Kelly Trio, one of Miles’ greatest rhythm sections, was an early staple at the Blue Coronet; Wynton actually lived in the neighborhood.

WJ: When you were hiring musicians at that time, how long was their typical run at the club?

HB: When I hired Wynton Kelly that was for two weeks. My grand opening, in 1967, was Max Roach with Abbey Lincoln, Charles Tolliver on trumpet… I forget who else he had, he had a dynamite group. Then I started booking musicians for a week, and every week I had a different musician for 15 years. The week would begin on Tuesday and last until Sunday, they played three sets a night starting about 8:00 and ending about 3 or 4am.

WJ: What were the audiences like when you first opened?

HB: Very accepting. When I first opened up it was a big thing.

WJ: How was it in terms of steady business?

HB: With jazz [the audience] is not real big money spenders – at least not at that time – so I had to charge a door price, which kept a lot of riff-raff away because at the time there was a big drug problem going around. One of the reasons why the original proprietors [of the Coronet] closed up is because there were a lot of drugs in the area and I scrutinized whoever came in.

WJ: And how would you scrutinize them?

HB: By charging at the door. At the time it was $2 during the week, $5 on weekends.

WJ: What was the capacity of the Blue Coronet?

HB: The capacity was small… about 100… with 150 people it was packed.

WJ: That was 150 sitting at tables?

HB: No, about 100 sitting at tables, the rest sitting at the bar or standing up.

WJ: Describe the Blue Coronet physical space.

HB: When you came in there was a foyer, a standing room that amounted to about 10 feet before you got to the bar. To the right was the bar, which was about 35-40 feet long and held about 18-19 stools and then you had the standing room, then you had the back. It was open and you could see the stage anyplace in the bar. The stage set up around 5-feet [high]. And I opened up a [new] kitchen [from the former Coronet]. I did maybe $100,000 [renovation] job on it.

WJ: So there were good sightlines throughout the place?

HB: Yes, that’s a good way to put it.

WJ: On an average week you would present someone from Tuesday-Sunday. What were your biggest nights?

HB: Our biggest nights were of course Friday & Saturday, and if we had a good act Thursday as well.

WJ: Who were some of the more successful people who played your club in terms of your audience?

HB: To tell you the truth, the bigger act at that time, the heavy jazz boys: of course Miles [Davis], Max [Roach], [Thelonious] Monk… those would get you crowds. We had a lotta local Brooklyn boys, seemed like everybody in the world came out of Brooklyn… maybe because of cheaper living, but we had our crowd [of musicians] come out of Brooklyn: Kenny Dorham… I could go all down the line; but you get what you pay for. I remember every New Year for a long time we used to have double acts, for New Year’s Eve I would have like Freddie Hubbard and his quintet and Lee Morgan and his quintet… a battle of the trumpets. We had a lotta repeats: Mongo Santamaria…, I’ve got lists of names… but everybody you could name, you name ‘em they played there, every jazz musician of note: Hugh Masakela… you name ‘em, big and small.

Master conguero-bandleader Mongo Santamaria brought Afro-Cubana to the Blue Coronet.

WJ: Was your audience an all-black audience?

HB: It was 95% black. You gotta remember, the Village was going strong then – the Village Gate, Village Vanguard… and I was doing just as much as they were doing. I had a few singers, but mostly instrumentalists.

WJ: What singers did you present?

HB: Local singers… No real big singers, mostly local. Abbey Lincoln came in with Max, Etta Jones played there many, many times with Houston Person.

Brooklyn had the biggest conglomeration of jazz musicians living there… Randy Weston did a lot of shows for me, Kenny Dorham, Cecil Payne all the time… [Laughs] You name ‘em, they played…

Kenny Dorham was another of the greats who lived in Brooklyn and played the Blue Coronet.

WJ: Did you have other places at the time?

HB: 1985 – twenty years… or better. I had four other bars at the time, all in Brooklyn – Dickie’s Monterey; the New World on Flatbush Avenue; the Uptown Lounge on Sterling Street… I had my brother working with me too.

WJ: Did you maintain the same policy at the Blue Coronet for all that time?

HB: Sure… One of the reasons I did cut out, or left it alone, was because it wasn’t attractive anymore, we had a drought… and I couldn’t maintain it.

WJ: When did the drought begin?

HB: After about 25 years. There were a number of things, big drugs in the neighborhood, high unemployment, lack of concern for jazz fractured the musicians… all those factors. Sonny Stitt used to be my very good friend, and it got to a point where I payed him $1500-1600 a week, which was not too bad for a small place, I could live with that… I would give him a week there and a week at Count Basie’s [club]. Miles Davis, I would pay him $5,000 a week – but look who he came with! A lotta guys would play the club and the [musicians] union would supply them with local [rhythm sections], but Miles came in with Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, Wayne Shorter, Tony Williams… so when he came in he had his regular group.

The Miles Davis Quintet recording “Complete live at the Blue Coronet 1969” is the only known live recording made at the club; this widely available bootleg featured the band that followed the disbanding of Miles’ second great quintet, with Wayne Shorter as the lone holdover, joined by Chick Corea on electric piano, Dave Holland on bass, and Jack DeJohnette on drums. Buyer beware: the poor-to-mediocre sound quality of this 2-CD set – likely recorded surreptitiously from underneath some patron’s table or trench coat pocket makes it purely for Miles Davis completists.

The Night Miles Davis was shot…
WJ: Speaking of Miles, there’s the famous story of his being shot after a Blue Coronet engagement.

HB: [Chuckles] There’s always been guys that want to take over the business when they see you doing good business. The week I had Miles… he was working for me regularly; anytime he had a week off he would call and say ‘hey Dick, I’ll bring [the band] in. This guy who was monopolizing the business – he’s dead now, he got shot on Flatbush Avenue… the name is not important. I booked Miles that week [the week Miles was shot in an altercation in Manhattan after a gig at The Blue Coronet], the Village Gate had Gloria Lynne. Now he made a deal with me to have Gloria Lynne at my place, I told him I couldn’t, so he told Miles ‘don’t show up’ [at The Blue Coronet]; certain people tried to bulldoze musicians at that time.

I looked in the paper and it said Gloria Lynne was gonna be at the Village Gate. This guy said ‘no, Gloria Lynne gonna be at your place…’ There were some threats passed and Miles lawyer – Harold Lovette… that bastard [laughs] knew there was tension. Harold called [this guy] and told him what to kiss… See Harold started everything. They weren’t consulting me because I knew Miles was going to be at my place, and not Gloria Lynne. Then Harold told that guy what to kiss and said Miles was coming over [to the Blue Coronet] anyway. So over Harold’s BS, this guy wanted to make a point, to show you how bad he was.

When Miles played I had to keep two parking spaces out front of the Blue Coronet to keep Miles and his red Ferarri out front because there were no designated parking spaces. So when Miles left the club they put the boys on him. You know in Brooklyn it’s very easy to get shooters, even at that time, and they drove up and shot Miles’ car up. When I went down to see the car, if Miles hadn’t had that heavy [car] door, he would have been dead. They arrested Miles for having a couple of reefers on him. Miles said he was never coming to Brooklyn again.

WJ: Were you there that night, and how did you find out what had happened?

HB: In the papers, on the radio. They shot him in Lower Manhattan after he left the club [date: October 9, 1969]; they followed him to Manhattan. Right after that Miles started playing that off-beat [electric] jazz.

WJ: Did you have any kind of stylistic policy in terms of who you brought into the club?

HB: Not really, I didn’t have any real… I wasn’t opinionated about the type of music they played. Avant garde stuff like Randy [Weston] plays… Randy would get on that piano and play two months… I love Randy, that’s my man, but somewhat avant garde. Another one was McCoy Tyner, the same way…

WJ: What makes you refer to your place as a community place?

HB: It was all black for one – the Coronet had a white owner – I made the Blue Coronet a black atmosphere; I gave all the locals a shot, I gave everybody a shot.

WJ: How would you compare your policy at The Blue Coronet with the policy of other clubs in Brooklyn at the time?

HB: They didn’t have many. They had Town Hill at the time; that was a variety place, mine was strictly jazz. They had Sam Cooke up there, Dinah Washington… and that was a huge place, mostly singers. Turbo Village was just live music at the time; no one compared with what I was doing at the time.

WJ: So your place from 1965-1985 was, at least in your estimation, THE jazz club in Brooklyn.

HB: Right.

WJ: Was your audience strictly Brooklynites, or did people come over from Manhattan and other places?

HB: I never took no census, but I advertised in the New York Times, the Post, the Daily News… advertising was a big part of it… I did radio [advertising]; a good part of my money went out for advertising, posters… mostly in Brooklyn. I advertised in the Amsterdam News… I got my play in the newspapers; when they [listed] jazz spots, the Blue Coronet was there. I got a big picture in the Daily News, me and Sonny Stitt… They gave me my play… I advertised every week.

Sonny Stitt was a Blue Coronet regular and personal friend of owner Habersham-Bey.

WJ: Did you have MCs at the Blue Coronet?

HB: Yeah, we had Irvin C. Watson… he was from Brooklyn, he was a friend. And Jimmy Morton.

WJ: Were you on good terms with the musicians?

HB: Yeah, very good terms, ‘cause I was a fair guy and I knew how hard it is being a black musician, especially a jazz musician. I was discriminating about what I wanted in the club; if it was going to be a jazz club, be a jazz club.

May 4, 2005

Jazz is dead!

It died that day around 3pm…

Surviving are 1,7 million musicians who play Jazz and 20 million jazz fans throughout the world, 300 million recordings,
and 500,000 trombonists without beepers.
– Producer-saxophonist Bob Belden

The 7th annual DC Jazz Festival, under the prescient guidance of Charlie Fishman and Sunny Sumter (who though still a young woman, insists she has “retired” as a jazz vocalist, but we still hold out hope…) closed last Monday evening with the DC tour appearance of “A Night in Treme.” Assembled to take a good chunk of the exceptional music component of David Simon’s brilliant HBO series “Treme” on the road and bring us outlyers a nice taste of vivid New Orleans’ music culture for an evening, the show is expertly narrated by the program’s lead actor Wendell Pierce (who plays trombonist Antoine Batiste).

The program begins with Pierce, wielding a blue tambourine, trailing (or second lining) the evening’s cast of musicians marching onto the stage NOLA-style: the Rebirth Brass Band, Big Chief Donald Harrison on alto sax, trumpeter James “The Satchmo of the Ghetto” Andrews, clarinet historian Dr. Michael White, and robust trombonist Big Sam Williams, of Big Sam’s Funky Nation. Pierce, working from a podium, provides excellent narrative, unraveling a few of what for some un-initiates may be the mysteries of New Orleans culture: What’s a second line? Why the Mardi Gras Indians? and the like. Yeah ‘ya right! Each of the three soloists – Harrison, White, and Andrews – drew a solo spot, most opposite Rebirth. However Harrison took the occasion to blow a smoldering sax cadenza suitable for illustrating that yes indeed, New Orleans also has an exceptional modern jazz culture. He modulated on “Misty,” took the “A Train” in an obvious nod to DC’s #1 jazz son, and wound up doing a “Mexican Hat Dance.” Trad jazz was represented by White unfurling the old warhorse “St. James Infirmary,” segueing from “Just a Closer Walk With Thee”.

The SRO crowd at the KC Concert Hall – which is usually a rather staid assemblage – belied that notion by jumping to its feet at the merest coaxing from the musicians, spending the majority of the evening swaying, stomping, bobbing heads and twisting necks in a near constant jump-up to the incessant rhythms. So raucous was the occasion that I kept waiting for the place to go into orbit! Yes, it was that kind of night and that kind of close to a very successful DC Jazz Festival. Check www.dcjazzfest.org to stay in touch.

Striving to live up to its boast as “Africa’s grandest gathering” the 2011 edition of the Cape Town International Jazz Festival presented a rich cornucopia of sounds – including jazz, jazz extensions and jazz-influenced in a colorful melange. Being an inveterate crowd watcher comes with the territory for those who present jazz, and particularly jazz festivals, including your corespondent. Strolling the halls and adjacent outdoor byways of the spiffy Cape Town International Convention Centre (largest of its kind on the Continent of Africa) one cannot help but be impressed with the SRO throng’s electric air of anticipation and simple joy of being there. CTIJF audiences represent one of the most diversely gorgeous mosaics enjoyed by any jazz festival on the planet.


SCENES FROM A FESTIVAL: CTIJF ’11

Designed in the manner of its fabled father, the Northsea Jazz Festival, CTIJF is produced by espAfrika, under the direction of the wiry, wily Rashid Lombard. A photojournalist, Lombard’s experience includes many years of official work for the apartheid era pariah African National Congress (ANC) of Nelson Mandela and his cohorts, now the post-apartheid majority party of South Africa. CTIJF takes place over a week of assorted street-stage performances, educational outreach activities, youth oriented events, and an arts journalism intensive run by Gwen Ansell, author of the essential book Soweto Blues. The activities culminate in a kinetic weekend at the Convention Centre (March 25 & 26, 2011) where the festival takes over five huge spaces, including two outdoor plaza stages and a theatre. Each venue honors either a South African jazz ancestor (tenorman Basil “Mannenberg” Coetzee, keyboardist Moses Molelekwa) or a historic venue (Rosies, Kippie’s, and Bassline). Fittingly the more jazz-centric acts – particularly U.S. imports like Wayne Shorter or Esperanza Spalding – play the comfortable Rosies theatre, while the mass audience faves, like the eagerly anticipated Earth, Wind & Fire, or smoothie Dave Koz, play the huge Kippies. The latter is a room that could comfortably accommodate a sporting event, which under different circumstances might be a multi-purpose convention exhibit hall; such a room is certainly not built for either comfort or the accommodation of pleasant acoustics. If you fancy the camaraderie of stand-up gigs belly-to-back and shoulder-to-shoulder with your neighbor, then this is your place – but decidedly not mine. Meanwhile Rosie’s and Molelekwa are built for comfort, with chairs in the latter, theater seating and superior acoustics in the former. The other two venues are SRO, though not as jammed-tight as Kippie’s.

Since this was your corespondent’s 3rd time around for CTIJF, the drill was a bit simpler. A festival of this nature begs both patience and a savvy sense of scheduling – as in ‘let’s see, should we catch the first 20 minutes of show X then head over for the more eagerly anticipated show Y, with an eye towards comfortably navigating the hallways towards the big finish of show Z?’ Yes, its that kind of party, and one blessed with more than its share of charms – including ample crafts and CD merchants, local & generic cuisine – once the navigational pathways have been properly charted via fold-out schedule or program book.

Given the constant crowd arrival, (doors opening around 6:00, first sets at 7:00) which peaks at about 10 and goes to 1:00am or so, figuring Kippie’s to be a bit light on the jam-pack for the opening set, the Cape Town Tribute Band was in order opening night. Over the past three years or so SA has experienced more than its share of significant jazz deaths, including the very recent passing of the brilliant and exploratory saxophonist Zim Ngqawana who passed on to ancestry mere weeks after the festival. The Cape Town Tribute Band is an all-star assemblage of some of SA’s finest, who paid homage to fallen warriors saxophonist Winston “Mankunku” Ngozi, pianist Tony Schilder, vocalist Donald Tshomela, saxophonist Ezra Nguckana, saxophonist Robbie Jansen, and my friend and colleague pianist Hotep Idris Galeta. The latter spent more than a little time stateside, working with Jackie McLean and Bobby Hutcherson among others. The tribute band, under the direction of guitarist Alvin Dyers gave a warm account of compositions written by or affiliated with the fallen heroes, including Hotep’s infectious “Harold’s Bossa.”

Next it was upstairs to Rosie’s for the fluent trumpet artistry of Feya Feku, whose set proved a study in subtlety, maintaining a kind of cerebral low gravy/high simmer, full of original compositions. The fire came with the final two pieces, when Feku also paid homage to the fallen with his own “Missing Heroes.” Guitarafrika brought three distinct string traditions to the Molelekwa stage, including the colorfully swathed Eric Triton from Mauritius, SA’s Steve Newman, and Alhousseini Mohamed Anivolta from Niger. Their mantra modes reminded of Morocco’s grand Gnaoua Festival.

FEYA FAKU

The Wayne Shorter Quartet’s abstract truths were the most eagerly anticipated stand of the weekend for the Rosie’s stage, which was packed for both Friday and Saturday night sets. Shorter did not disappoint, opening on Friday with a meditation on his Bitches Brew contribution “Sanctuary” and including a tricksters rendition of “Speak No Evil” which was adroitly addressed by the master and his challenging, longtime cohorts Danilo Perez, Brian Blade and John Patitucci. Throughout Shorter, who can seem a bit aloof, appeared genuinely inspired, leaving one to wonder if the afterglow from his days on in-country wildlife safari prior to the festival had the desired effect. Wayne seems to increasingly look to Patitucci as the band’s fulcrum, around which the entire quartet seems to revolve. His sets on successive evenings brought to mind that early Weather Report credo of “we always solo, we never solo.” Strolling the byways to catch bits & pieces of various sets – with particular interest always in the South African artists, the daunting throng jammed into Kippies for EWF sent me back to Rosie’s for the ever-cerebral and ironic Patricia Barber. She opened with Jobin’s “Triste” and kept up a running, somewhat distracting banter with the crew for sound adjustments (“why’s it so loud?”).

Saturday evening the festival stumbled into a pothole as tech matters significantly delayed the eagerly-awaited performance of one of SA’s jewels, vocalist Simphiwe Dana. Once the striking Ms. Dana stylishly floated onstage garbed in gauzy black & white she sang of global unification in duo with her guitarist on the deeply-affecting “Tribe”, effectively cooling the upset crowd’s ardor. Since seeing her at the ’05 edition, when demand for her first scheduled performance caused espAfrika to quickly juggle the lineup and insert a second performance on a larger stage, Dana has crafted a magnetic stage presence to go along with her politically-charged contralto and tightly-delivered presentation.

THE EXQUISITE SIMPHIWE DANA

As the madding crowds began to pack Kippies in anticipation of EWF succeeding Simphiwe on its stage, some savvy maneuvering eased my way outdoors to the Bassline stage. The latter is the festival’s showcase for younger talent and DJ culture. The second Bassline set for Saturday evening was someone who enticed more than a little curiosity, vocalist-poet-actress Naima McLean, daughter of saxophonist Rene McLean, granddaughter of NEA Jazz Master Jackie McLean and arts administrator Dollie McLean. Naima, a multi-talented young woman to be sure, is a bit green but quite promising as she develops her craft. She opened with a clever arrangement of her namesake, the John Coltrane‘s classic “Naima” that Rene later told me he’d arranged for her, and proceeded through a set that garnered a lotta love from an audience that was clearly in her corner. Naima McLean is one to watch.

NAIMA McLEAN DELIGHTS THE BASSLINE AUDIENCE

South Africa boasts one of the strongest indigenous jazz cultures on the planet outside the U.S. CTIJF affords opportunities to sample some of SA’s nascent jazz talent, and with that in mind I eased back inside to the Molelekwa stage for trumpeter Lwanda Gogwana. The native of East London, a contributor to Abdullah Ibrahim’s Cape Town Jazz Orchestra book, operates in a contemporary vein with more than a little tribal inflection in his forms, including a resident shaman onstage. The band was also notable for including the impressive trombone woman Siya Charles, who along with saxophonist Shannon Mowday (currently studying in the Netherlands) are the first wave of a hopefully growing tradition of post-apartheid SA jazzwomen instrumentalists.

LWANDA GOGWANA

Based on his sublime duet with fellow master Kenny Barron at the NEA Jazz Masters concert in January, a fuller measure of Hubert Laws was in order. Curiously Laws is something of a rarity these days on jazz festival bills. His effortlessly facile essay through “Airegin” on piccolo demonstrated his peerless mastery on that diminutive member of the flute family; as did his sparkling way around “Lament” and an azure “My Ship” further suggested the truth – that as a flute specialist Hubert Laws is the greatest virtuoso this music has produced. Of note in the band was David Budway‘s piano, and the presence of Rob Mullins on synth enabled Laws to broaden his orchestration, lending his “Rite of Spring” particular depth.

Hugh Masakela set out on an overt mission to substantiate his jazz propers at Rosies, in his introductory remarks prominently mentioning critics who’ve dismissed his improviser’s credentials in the past. What resulted was a rather low-watt program of standards delivered entirely on flugelhorn, the highlight of which was a warm “I Remember Clifford”. Despite the relative mediocrity, one mustn’t overlook the essential contributions of pianist Larry Willis, Masakela’s buddy from back in the day whose work was consistently on-point. In marked contrast on the Richter scale was Cindy Blackman‘s furious set down the hall at Molelekwa. Ms. Blackman (Santana) was literally a drumming force of nature in her tribute to mentor Tony Williams, her band featuring guitarist David Gilmore and bass guitarist Felix Pastorius, Jaco’s dark-haired progeny.

About Cape Town: Cape Town is one of the world’s most beautiful cities, which despite its obvious vibrance is a relatively tranquil place. The combination of mountain, sea and hilly vistas frame the town in a manner remindful of San Francisco. Take the de riguer cable car trip to the top of Table Mountain for unparalleled city vistas and you’ll be hooked on the sheer physical attributes of the city. Numerous other historic sites lend the city further charm, as does its inviting waterfront area. For the retail-minded the Waterfront Mall shopping area is a must – and we’re not talking your typical faceless suburban mall. There’s lots of local color in the mall area, including two large indigenous crafts sections and assorted vocal, dance and instrumental ensembles lending a township air to the vibrance. And make sure you stop at Presidential Shirts, so-named because they are shirtmakers for Madiba, spiritual father Nelson Mandela. Also don’t forget the nearby wine country, particularly in the vicinity of the town of Stellenbosch; South Africa has more than its share of first class vintners. For the club scene try the bustling nightlife of CT’s Long Street, and the city has more than its share of fine restaurants, but if you’re in luck and know some locals, see if you can wangle your way into a braai for South Africa’s noted barbecue culture – vegans beware!

SKILLED BUSKERS DELIVERING SA’s UNIQUE HARMONIC ESSENCE

THE VIEW FROM ATOP TABLE MOUNTAIN

Getting there: Getting to South Africa promises one of the longest flights you’re likely to experience, but beyond worth it. The best routes are via South African Airways, a very accommodating carrier as airlines go. They fly via either JFK or Washington Dulles to Johannesburg (approx. 17 hours), then its another two to Cape Town. Thank goodness South African Airways is built for comfort, and particularly replete with amenities for the first class traveler.

Nina Simone was one of the more thoroughly unique and singular artists of the 20th century. Her legacy lives on in many corners; radio programmers such as WPFW’s Miyuki Williams (“A Sunday Kind of Love”) steadfastly and earnestly uphold and celebrate that legacy. The stories from those who knew her are legendary. There was no one who better fit the mantle of fiercely iconoclastic than Ms. Simone – freedom & human rights champion, absolute independent, driven woman are just a few of her platforms. They literally threw away the mold when Nina Simone ascended to ancestry.

So what do you suppose possesses a young vocalist to tackle Simone’s singular song legacy? The young Ottawa, Ontario-based singer Kellylee Evans has chosen to do just that with her latest recording, simply titled Nina. The album subsequently captured a 2011 Juno Award, Canada’s Grammy equivalent. Kellylee is someone whose arc I’ve been following since her impressive turn in the Monk Competition (the year Gretchen Parlato captured the prize). Like many a finalist she had more than a little earnest audience support that weekend as her clear, rich tones rang out across the Kennedy Center Concert Hall, buoyed by superb articulation, and a sense of phrasing mature beyond her years. Now comes Nina, on the Plus Loin label, begging an Independent Ear inquiry.

KELLYLEE EVANS BEARING WITNESS TO NINA SIMONE

What inspired you to pay such homage to Nina Simone?

My mother was a Nina Simone fan, and her music filled our home. My husband was also a fan, and during university, Sunday was Nina Simone day. I can’t tell you how many times I woke up to the sound of her voice. When I first started learning jazz I focused on learning one singer a month. I would read everything I could find about them, learn their repertoire, their sound. I revisited the music of Nina Simone at that time. That was when I truly developed my own love for her. When Plus Loin Music asked me to record for them and told me I could do whatever I wanted, so long as it was standards, I instantly knew I wanted to pay tribute to the singers that had trained me on my monthly journeys. Nina was my first choice. The album was initially entitled ‘Songs Nina Taught Me’ but that felt long, so I shortened it to Nina.

KELLYLEE WITH HER 2011 JUNO AWARD FOR NINA

Since Nina Simone is such an icon and others have paid her tribute, how did you go about making yours a unique tribute album?

The couple times fear crept in, making me question whether I had anything new to say, I remembered the title of the project. This was always about the songs, never solely about Nina Simone. I wanted to introduce people to the music I learnt from Nina Simone. I remembered that they can always refer to their own Nina Simone albums to listen to her version. That freed me up to approach the music from my own perspective. Which would explain why there is no piano. For the most part, I play in a guitar-based trio. Those are the sounds I hear. I was so happy when the label encouraged me to keep the project true to that organic sound I love to produce.

Talk about your career development for those who may not know you.

I was a stay-at-home mother studying for my masters in legal philosophy when I decided to step away and pursue my music. I started writing my own songs and self-produced an album in early 2004, with Lonnie Plaxico, Marvin Sewell, George Colligan, Kahlil Kwame Bell, and Steve Hass. I used the tracks from that project to enter the Thelonious Monk International Jazz Vocal Competition and ended up in 2nd place. I essentially went from singing in the shower to singing onstage at the Kennedy Center. The judges that year were Flora Purim, Dee Dee Bridgewater, Kurt Elling, Al Jarreau, Little Jimmy Scott, and Quincy Jones. It was surreal. I ended up releasing that CD, Fight or Flight?, in early 2006, and it was nominated for a 2007 Juno Award. I also received a Gemini Award nomination that year and won a Canadian Smooth Jazz Award. In February 2010, I ended up releasing another album (The Good Girl) of all original material that I wrote and produced from a more pop-soul perspective. Then Nina came out in August of 2010.

What’s your sense of the jazz vocal pantheon?

I am definitely grateful to all the singers that have come before me. As I mentioned, I owe the development of my craft to so many. Being an academic at the time, my search for music and sound was extensive. I didn’t seek to retain specifics, but more to appreciate the broad range and create my own sound. Ella Fitzgerald, Carmen McRae, Sarah Vaughan, Mel Torme, Dinah Washington, Abbey Lincoln, Cleo Laine, Rita Reys, Billie Holiday, Nancy King… I have loved so many. I don’t listen to them much now, but I carry their lessons with me every time I open my mouth.

Since Nina was such a singular endeavor, what do you have in mind for your next project?

The next project is still in incubation. Perhaps another journey into the songs I learnt from one of these teachers. Perhaps another original effort. I would love to spend more time with Nina on the road. There is something so beautiful in continuing to explore these songs with my musicians. Each day brings something new. I am not really ready to leave her yet.

When and where can folks see you in the U.S. over the coming months?

I will be performing the music of Nina at only one date in the U.S. at this point, in Aspen for Jazz Aspen Snowmass on June 29. We will also be in Bath, MN on June 4 for a show featuring the music from The Good Girl. Most of my dates this coming year are in Europe and Canada. I would like to be in the U.S. more, definitely.