A Be-bop Resurrection
The Jazz Requiem -- the Passion in Jazz
Performed by the Don Hardy Ensemble
St. Andrew's Wesley Church
Vancouver, B.C.
Sunday, March 30, 1997
Review by Andrew Parker
Photography by Rodney Gitzel
Eight or ten years have passed since I last sought
out the sanctuary of a church on Easter Sunday. Righteously declaring
this to my kin, I neglected to acknowledge the
ulterior motives behind my attendance this Easter: in short, I guess you could
say it was the devil's music that drove me back to the hard pews.
No, not Marilyn Manson, I'm talking about The Jazz Requiem,
the stewpot of fused jazz, funk and ol' time gospel that Don Hardy
and his Ensemble cooked up for last Easter's special edition of
Jazz Vespers, the weekly event at St. Andrew's Wesley where Christian
stories are accompanied by jazz performers. That very performance
has since been released on CD, the Ensemble has toured the work
through B.C. and Alberta, and we now found ourselves together in
church, this Easter Sunday, for the encore performance.
Naturally, the marriage of music and theology is
penetratingly emotional. Bunnies and chocolate aside, Easter is
the holiday marking the trial, conviction and bloody persecution
of debatably the most controversial prophet of all time. As the
minister rewove the events leading to Jesus Christ's
murder, Don Hardy and his musicians provided a stirring soundtrack,
matching the lashes of the Romans, note for note. I truly enjoyed
the drastic jump-cut from the philosophy of Jesus on adultery
to a straight-ahead bop groove, complete with a bouncing bass
line and the thick, honeyed guitar of Rob Steininger. "Let
thou who has not sinned cast the first stone.." BOOM... do... do...do...
da-do-da... dooooo...
Following another lively liturgy on the infamous
forty day fast, the audience was treated to the lush harmonies
of the torch-trilogy of back-up vocalists. Country diva Megan
Metcalfe, songbird coach Holly Denney and consummate showman --
and Yale regular --
Oliver Conway
all combined to transmit the
faithful anguish of the sacrificial fast. In their own sanguinely
silent way, many people in the crowd seemed quite moved by this
number. One fellow in attendance was certainly picking up some
energy-giving elixir from this spoken-word/jazz combo. Each time
Don Hardy instructed his charges to unleash the flow, this character
leapt from his seat and shook it down on a spontaneously-chosen
dance floor. I kept wishing he might send a little street-level
zeitgeist my way, and even more heartily I was craving a shot
or two of whatever was in the paper sack beside him!
Throughout the set I was impressed with Don Hardy's
licks, whether on piano, on muted trumpet (Ben Neil, watch your
back) or especially while pumping up the suspense on the organ.
The fat-ass fusion of organ, Brian Harrison on bass, and guitar
wizard Steininger, cut out a sly slice of Miles Davis' brashly
bastardful On the Corner/Bitches Brew days. As I rode the
hard pine, my mind raced, drawing coy links between the spontaneous
improv of jazz and a versatile, wily preacher.
As the words detailing the entombing of Jesus trailed
off, the sweetly layered noises of jazz filled the church. Echoing
the New Orleans burial traditions, the route home from the cemetery
was a joyful one, replete with celebration, not mourning. At the
end of the final tune, a spiritual, I stood with the crowd and
applauded. For despite my misgivings about the vehement dogma
in the Christian story, the music of the Don Hardy group had made
my Jazz Vespers experience one to remember.
First published in Drop-D Magazine on April 19, 1997
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