During my six-week stay in Valencia, I didn’t go to as many jazz concerts as I could or wanted. For variety of reasons, but chiefly because of my overall tiredness and forgetfulness. Why, I even managed to miss La Nit de Berklee, a free event featuring John McLaughlin himself. Damn.
And if not for a Facebook notice from my friend (and fellow Arco Iris alumna), I would have never discovered Mar i Jazz (16—18 June 2017). This festival took place in the Parque Dr. Lluch, next to the beach. I came on Saturday and Sunday and enjoyed it a lot. There were two scenes but no two bands were playing at the same time, so, in theory, one could wander back and forth and listen to it all. It was very relaxing and family-friendly, with lots of cute toddlers (and their parents) crawling around. I met old and new friends, spent some hours sitting/laying on the grass, had a nap and even ventured to the beach for a quick dip. In my opinion, Sunday had the better programme, Le Dancing Pepa Swing Band and Elektrik Jazz Mantra being the highlights.
Next Saturday, 24 June, I went to see the colourful and noisy Pride Parade (Orgullo 2017) boasting an apparently endless supply of samba bands. I really came there to cheer that very friend and, naturally, her band appeared the last! After that, I walked to Palau de la Música to see, wait for it, Gran Canaria Big Band. Far cry from Frank Sinatra Tribute, their programme Jazzethnic (which I’ve also mentioned in my other blog) is a fascinating mix of modern jazz with Canarian folklore.
As I was saying, there is no shortage of samba bands in Valencia. For two Sundays only, I (in company of Harold the Hedgehog) joined one of them. And that made me want more samba! Alas, my last Sunday in Valencia there was no rehearsal. I had to compensate for it with my second helping of the beach.
Finally, on Monday, 17 July, I went to Jardines de Viveros to see Chick Corea and Béla Fleck. (After missing McLaughlin, I thought I would never ever forgive myself for another mishap of such magnitude.) I can’t say I was impressed with the logistics. The website suggests that there is a limited supply of seats and so you have to hurry up with the booking. (The only type of tickets my friend could book on Monday were meant for people with reduced mobility.) Wrong! The seats in Viveros were of a plastic garden chair variety that you can buy in any bazar here for a few euro each. And at least a third of them were empty! Not only the tickets were pricey: this place sells the most expensive beer in Spain. No, for this kind of music, one needs a smaller, preferably air-conditioned, venue.
Enough complaining: the show was well worth it. I liked it all, but especially Children’s Song #6, Señorita and (suddenly!) two sonatas by Domenico Scarlatti. (Ah, that banjo sounding like harpsichord... pure magic.) The encores were, maybe unsurprisingly, Spain and Armando’s Rhumba: all these years and countless performances later, still as good (or better) as one could expect. But — back to complaining mode — I was really annoyed with the audience that night. It was like nobody, apart from me and my beautiful neighbour on the left that is, wanted the show to go on. You guys paid a lot for the tickets; couldn’t you shout “Otra! Otra!” a bit louder and for longer time?
