This week we have been to three sets of the Roy Haynes Quintet in Fukuoka, in southern Japan. The music ranged from the intricately superb to the not ineffable sublime.
We went to the first sets of the first, fifth and sixth of six evenings; we have a two hour train journey to return and the last train leaves too soon for to attend the second set. Haynes sparkled throughout, more on the latter two shows than the first, with rich polyrhythmic layers of sound, layers of speckled, playful, complex and disruptive rhythms that stretched not only the beat in every imaginable and unimaginable direction, but also our imaginations. He did this to tease, if not taunt the sax and bass, which he also did verbally, in part assuming that most of the audience would not understand, which they didn't (most attempts at verbal rapport with the audience met only with smiles, or embarrassed giggles, and so on). This was not, of course, malicious, but was designed to very carefullytread on the edge of wounding, to be sufficient to motivate without scaring, lifting their ire to the music, nowhere else, and in result draw much superior performances from them. Haynes had a complete rapport, no symbiosis with "his pianist of choice" of many years, David Kikoski whose own rhythmic patterns, disruptions, wedded with this rhythmically expanding and disruptive teasing; in fact his playing reminded me quite firmly of the Prestige session on which Monk played with Miles, when Miles asked Monk to sit out while he soloed, one of my favourite Monk, as well as Miles, sessions. Moreover, that very sense of space in Monk's playing could also be heard in Kikoski's comping, with his soloing shear virtuosic joy of runs of imaginative notes and chord patterns. He is a pianist that should, no his work must be followed, and any chance to see him live that becomes available not missed. (He has some excellent albums out under his own name; Persistent Dreams, Triloka Records 7191-2, Dave Kikoski, Sony Epicure EPC 478174 2, and his most recent, which is stunning, on Criss Cross Jazz 191151-2, called Inner Trust.)
Unfortunately, the Club,The Blue Note, Fukuoka, did not have anywhere near the same desire to give customers good reason to return on more than one occasion; having booked for two sets, on departing after the second we determined to return next evening. While paying the drinks bill, we asked to reserve, and the conversation followed something like: "Oh, we cannot take your reservation, you need to telephone our office upstairs. Pardon? Can you not make the reservations? No! So we must telephone to the office above? Yes, here is the telephone number on the back of our leaflet. Etc., etc. So you want us to take out a portable telephone and call now to your office above here in front of you?" Yes. What? Do you think we are your fools? We come here to two concerts in a week, when they're less than half-filled on any occasion, and we wish to return tomorrow, and... and so on...
Had the music not been so good I would have thrown my membership card, not simply their leaflet back at them. This in a club that sported almost as many staff as audience; audiences ranged from 40 on average to about 65, maximum perhaps 70.