Subject: "JAZZLINE"
Date: Fri, 18 Jan 2008 19:48:55 +1100
To: alexhutch@optusnet.com.au

Hello Dear Alec,
As until recently the long time editor of "Jazzline", I feel compelled to make a response to a paragraph that you included in your note to VJC President Maurie Fabricant last week.
(.... and copied to a host of others). It is with regard to your apparent disappointment with the written content of "Jazzline" and the quality of the photographs therein.

"I was a member for years, as you probably know, however I let my membership lapse and it would be counter productive to give you specific reasons, other than to say that I thought the Club had seemed to have ground to a halt so to speak and that Jazzline was running articles American musicians I had never heard of and I don't think you would have either and the photos were of such poor quality, I hardly recognised myself in one".

I'll deal with the second concern first,  since it is the easiest to explain.

The magazine has for many years, been printed by the instructor and his students at Bundoora TAFE.
You are quite right in noticing that, particularly at some times even more than others, the photos have been excessively blurry.
This is mainly due to a combination of the available technology, linked to the format and paper stock. Both of these aspects are "budget driven".

A lot of it is to do with the relative difficulty of transferring images from the various quality pictures that we receive from a variety of sources.
Sometimes it is only possible to "extract" so much pixel information from some sources and reproduction is therefore limited in quality.
Hard copy photographs, scanned and re-formatted to B&W were for a long time preferable to those from digital cameras.
It has taken quite a while for even our most talented photo sources, e.g Ron Jobe, to get on top of this.
Judi Anderson had become quite a "wiz" at determining just where the most likely problems originated and over the many years of her long after -hours and unpaid involvement,
was of invaluable and patient assistance as she and I and Ron would shuttle pictures back and forth, in an attempt to improve them.

Suffice to say that with the proliferation of digital cameras out there with our members, who from time to time send in pics, that the quality varies considerably.
Often it's a case of using the pic because of its' relevance and enduring the poor quality reproduction.
Other times, we are simply dealing with very old photographs, newspaper cuttings (very difficult) and images of controlled pixel information, "lifted" from the www.

When dealing with non-professionals at our printing source, it's sometimes inevitable that broader mistakes occur.
We have had an entire edition printed in italics, for example and yes I do remember one edition where the photographs were universally worse than ever. Perhaps this was the one that you refer to?
It does pay to remember that it is a low budget production, produced by volunteers and students. Personally I feel that it has improved considerably in a technical sense, overall.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now to the more important point and like yourself, wishing to avoid being counter productive, I'd like to take issue with the question of "content" that you have raised.

Without the exact wording of the charter, or  aims of the VJC at hand, I think I can safely say that the role of the club is defined somewhat as being committed to the performance and furtherance of Traditional and Mainstream Jazz.
A quick look at the VJC program over these past 9 years or so that I have been a member, indicates that the preponderance of bands fall distinctly within the "Classic Jazz", "West Coast Jazz", "New Orleans Revival" and various permutations thereof. There have also been "Mainstream" ensembles such as "Mainstem", "E Type Jazz" and quite a few groups led by yourself, either as featured front-man or providing an accompaniment to vocalists.

Given then, that the majority of the bands favour earlier stylistic influences, this is where in my role of editor of "Jazzline" I have sought to provide material that places the Traditional Jazz bands of Australia within an international context.
What was immediately apparent to my upon my return to Australia was, that along with a handful of bands dedicated to accuracy of approach and performance within their chosen directions, there is also a plethora of bands performing what I have come to broadly term "Aussie Pub Dixieland".

Also I noticed that the majority of the Jazz audience, particularly at the VJC, seemed to know little and care even less about the origins and evolution of the music that they were listening to.
I noticed that the bands of the "Pub Dixieland" variety in particular, were increasingly playing in an "inbred" manner, where faulty tempo's, lack of intonation, complete ignorance at times of correct melody and so on, had become the norm and quite acceptable .......... To a point where right now, some of the most popular of the "Freebie Long Weekend Festival" bands are the most popular amongst what remains of the VJC audience.
In other words a complete dumbing down of the music. Is it any wonder that as you observe, "the Club seemed to have ground to a halt".

In the face of this phenomena, my editorial role became partly an effort to perhaps enlighten some of the musicians and audience and encourage them to go out and find better examples, not only within Australia, but on occasion obtaining feature articles, reviews and obituaries from the www and direct contact with correspondents internationally.
My desire was to make Jazzline a magazine worthy of international perusal, from what had been an idle chit-chat "amateur jazz scene" rag, that featured such illuminating articles as NJ Turner discussing Tchaikovsky's alleged pedophile behaviour. Needless to say that on becoming editor, I discarded a barely legible scribbled diatribe of Turner's, wherein he lambasted Earl Hines while portraying himself as Melbourne's Gil Evans.
A from the earliest days of the "Traditional Revival" in the 40's/50's there has always been much enlivened discussion with regard to "Australian content" in performance.
This emphasis continues to add much valuable material to the repertoire of Australian Jazz Bands of all genres.
Having said this, it is pretty much universally understood and recognised that our Australian Jazz & Ragtime composers are working broadly, with structural forms of harmonic progression and rhythms, that we have all inherited from from the original wellsprings of the American Ragtime era, the great Classic era of big bands, starting with Oliver, Morton and Ellington, Henderson, along with great unique "one-offs" like Andy Razaf, Thomas Waller and the likes of Gershwin, Porter, Hammersteins, etc amongst the vast number of Tin Pan Alley tune-smiths.

 It would be unfair and impolite of me to suggest that someone such as yourself could be expected to have heard of Joe Darensbourg, Johnny Dodds, Mutt Carey or Armand J Piron, for example. After all, you have devoted your musical life most ably to later, post Goodman, Shaw, Herman, De Franco influences.
Nevertheless these are important figures in Traditional Jazz and given the main focus of the music policy, such as it is, of the VJC, these are musicians that Australian musicians and audiences might be expected to know at least a little about. Without knowing about these figures and their contributions to the evolution of Jazz, as I have said Australian Jazz Music runs the risk of becoming inbred.

From my beginnings with "Jazzline" I have constantly cajoled and hustled musicians, in print and in 'phone calls & direct conversation, of all stylistic persuasions to contribute articles to the magazine.
With a few notable exceptions, this has proved to be fruitless.
We have enjoyed and appreciated items from Graeme Bell, Len Barnard, Harry Price, Mike Edwards and several others. All excellent. But too few.
You say you were a member of the VJC and indeed, some time ago I did see you at one general meeting.
I should have button-holed you then.
Given your long standing commitment to the music, in retrospect I regret not having invited you to contribute. For that I can only apologise.
Your lifetime of involvement in live music performance and organisational activity would provide a source of valuable and unique insight into the Jazz Scene of Melbourne over the past 50 years or so.
Indeed, for example your association with the "Fab Fifties" would have been a very worthwhile contribution alone, had you chosen to share it with us all.

I have just 4 back issues here in Rosebud, Winter & Spring-Summer of 2006 and Autumn of 2007 and Winter of 2007

Front cover photo's of Ade, Graeme Bell and Eugene Ball respectively, and I think deservedly enough someone you can't be expected to have heard of, but of whom readers may appreciate being aware of,
the late Richard B Allen world renown Jazz researcher.

In winter 2006 there was a 3 page interview with Ade, an item on an award to Bell,
A 1 page tribute to the last of the great earlier generation of New Orleans trumpet players, Lionel Ferbos at 90 (You might be forgiven there) .... An item on the Vic Jazz Muso's Benefit Fund.
An item on Morton's integrity as a composer, (who?) ..... along with obits on Ade & Russell Jones, a vibes player whom you may well have worked with.
Also a review of the Australian Music Posters book (Containing a lot of eraly 60's Jazz posters, Downbeat Concerts, etc.) by myself.
Also, forgive me, an item on the "composer" of "Sister Kate", AJ Piron, who's band contemporaries of Joe Oliver's, is significant in influence. Their clarinettist, Lorenzo Tio, taught Barney Bigard, Omer Simeon and Jimmy Noone, Goodman's first influence ..... later Goodman studied with Franz Shoep, of the Chicago Symphony, who had also coached Noone earlier on.
Enough there to warrant attention from an Australian Trad audience.
Various reviews of recent Australian CD releases

Spring -Summer 2006, apart from one item about Harry Connick's contributions towards rebuilding New Orleans .. well, after all!
Also an item from Jack Teagarden on "the importance of style". The rest was all about Australia wide events, past and at the time, current.
There was one article by myself covering a re-issue of the N.Y. Bunk Decca's & Victor's. Again remembering that the VJC is primarily "Traditional / Mainstream Jazz" oriented.
Various reviews of recent Australian CD releases

Autumn 2007 contained coverage of Bob Barnard's Jazz Party, closing of the Taiping Restaurant, a VJC "Riverboat" event, 4 pages of Ben Webster in his own words, a lenghty item from Paige Van Vorst on West Coast Jazz
(We are essentially a Trad Jazz oriented club and the majority of our members have a predilection for this "style").
An addendum on Ade's obit from Bill Miller and obits for John Speight (Manly Jazz Festival, Sydney) and Kenny Davern (who?)
Various reviews of recent Australian CD releases.

Winter 2007 contains obits on David Ward and the aforementioned Richard B Allen.
Coverage of the VJC Classic Jazz Party. Coverage of VJC Club events. An article on Joe Darensbourg, a great clarinettist who was a mainstay of the Kid Ory band for many years.
A satirical article on how to play and sing the blues. An item about the composer of "Buddy's Habits" (what?)
Photo's and an article on the Vic Jazz Musicians Benefit Fund Jam session, "Jazz Among The Totem Poles"
Photo coverage of Browne Scurry Iggulden at the VJC. Photo coverage of the Bob Barnard Jazz Party. Coverage of the Vic Jazz Archives exhibit.

While not always brilliant, here have been no criticisms with regard to the lack of clarity of the photographs in these editions to my knowledge.
We have received countless compliments over the years, from all over Australia and also internationally, for the "vast improvement" in the content of the magazine.

For the entire length of my involvement with "Jazzline" there have been several common themes recurring throughout my editorials. Primarily these have concerned:
*Trying to encourage people such as yourself to contribute.
*Trying to encourage people to come out to the VJC and hear different bands to those that they always support, in order to broaden their tastes.
*To encourage people to read more (book reviews) about Jazz. Mentioning many times that we have at our disposal a great reference library that has accumulated at the VJA. Very few do so.
*To encourage people to go out and buy recordings of good Jazz, local and international (reviews).
*The lack of young people playing or trying to play Jazz and lamenting the fact that in spite of the best intentions, the "Jazz Studies Program" located at the VJA has, in the 8 years I've been observing,
 not produced one single "student" as I am aware, who could be hired to play in any band in town.

Roger Bielby's "President's Messages" have followed similar themes and have always put a positive spin on adverse circumstances.
At no time has he ever thought it necessary to decorate his column with a picture of himself.

Take a quick flip around the radio dial through the week, 3MBS FM, 3RPPN FM (Port Phillip/Peninsula), Mal Stanley and Jerry Koster on the ABC, PBS 106.7 (you're a sponsor on Steve Robinson's Sat Morning show) and it is immediately noticeable that the programming is generally a mix of Australian with often more than a generous nod towards recent and not so imports from the U.S. (PBS 106 in particular with it's Arbours Records link).

These radio programmers place our Jazz Musicians including yourself, firmly and rightfully within an international context.

Of course in Jazzline you might have read about American or European musicians that you are unfamiliar with (Peplowski and Sarpilla for example).
The magazine is, or was at least, about information.

One of the main reasons that our current group of younger musicians, in all genres, are so good is that they live in a world of information, written, visual and recorded, that they seek out and study assiduously.
Sadly there are far too few of them.
I know of no musician with whom I grew up and whom I have worked with, over 40 years, who has not surrounded themselves with fascinating information about their favourite musicians.
It disappoints me to find people who close themselves off to information.
Is it because they feel their little worlds are threatened?

I'm sure that there have been many times in your past that you have passionately argued Parker, Stitt, De Franco, Goodman to those less convinced.
Don't give up on that passion Alec.

I once said in an editorial that since Jazz Musicians no longer felt it necessary to pay any Union Dues (I am still a member of The AFM), then they should at least not mind joining the VJC for a mere $35 PA.
I wrote that it's far better to be inside the tent pissing out, than outside pissing in.
You and I have far more in common than perhaps you are prepared to admit.
Join the VJC if you think it worthwhile, but ingratiating yourself to the president by canning other's efforts is not required ..... and it's not necessary to do so just for a  lousy $100.00 gig once a year.
There is somewhere in the vicinity of $40.000.00 in escrow held by the VJC at present ..... you might as well earn a little of it back, since over the years you have contributed towards it's accumulation.

With best regards,
Barry Wratten.

This "resignation piece" is the last article that I wrote, which has been censored by the current committee.  Make of it what you will.
 

Kevin Findlay writes: (20/4/07)
The sideman's by-laws.
Never recommend anyone who plays better than you.
Always suck up. (Leaders, bartenders, bride and/or groom, management, etc.)
If you don't know it, play harmony.
Double book, then choose.
Always assume the leader knows nothing.
Always degrade types of music you can't play or know nothing about.
Always bring your own business cards and solicit during breaks.
Never play requests (especially if you know it).
Never smile. Always complain.
Save all high notes for warming up and after engagement.
Never show up sooner than 30 seconds before an engagement. (One minute if
you have equipment to set up.)
Never leave a book of charts in order. Whenever possible, write on music in
ink.
Always play Coltrane or Parker licks during fox trots, tangos, waltzes, or
anything in D minor.
Always open spit valves over music.
If the leader is not sure of a tune, always use substitute changes over his
vocals or solos.
Always worship dead jazz greats.
Be negative about anything connected with the job.
Always bring drinks back to the band stand.
When a break is over, always disappear. If this is not possible, make a
phone call.
If you're backing up an act, talk when not playing. If it's a comic, don't
laugh.
Always bum a ride to a gig.
Always wait until someone else is buying before you get thirsty.
Never bring your own cigarettes to an engagement.
Avoid tipping at all cost (waitresses, coat room, valet, etc.).
Always ask, "When does the band eat", or "Where's our table"?
Remember, it's not your gig. Mingle with guests and enjoy yourself.

.............................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Kevin Findlay writes:
Wednesday 31st January 2007 - Hi Geoff!

A VISIT TO NEW ORLEANS – KEVIN FINDLAY

Most jazz lovers will appreciate the significance to jazz of Preservation
Hall – a venue in New Orleans where all the big names in early jazz, such as
Jelly Roll Morton, King Oliver, Kid Ory, and Buddy Bolden and many more,
performed at one time or another – and not forgetting the great Louis
Armstrong!   For most jazz musicians a visit to Preservation Hall is like a
Moslem making the holy “once-in-a-lifetime” trip to Mecca for the Haje.

So it was with great anticipation that my wife Pam and I recently had a
3-day visit to New Orleans, and we went searching for Preservation Hall at
the first opportunity. We finally located a bar on a corner in Bourbon St.
named the Preservation Jazz Bar, but this obviously wasn’t the place,
judging by the very loud 3-piece rock group playing at the time, and the
barman disclaimed any knowledge of Preservation Hall.   We eventually
located the right place about 2 blocks further east in St. Peter St. – all
locked up! But a sign indicated that it opened at 7.30 p.m. on Friday,
Saturday, and Sunday evenings, with a matinee on the Sunday as well – cost
$10!

In due course we returned early, hoping to find a good seat, but the place
is much smaller than I had imagined, with only hard wooden benches to sit on
– all quite dark and dingy.  We eventually found room near the front, just
managing to squeeze onto the end of a bench.   The 7-piece band came onto
the small stage, and took their seats – piano, bass, drums, and a front line
of trombone, trumpet, clarinet, and tenor sax.   The rhythm section were all
white musicians (the pianist was called Lars), and the trombone player was
also a young white woman – which was quite a surprise!   The clarinet player
sounded like a rusty hinge on the garden gate, and remained almost a
semitone flat throughout the performance, and I felt that the rest of the
players were all “pretty ordinary” - except the young black
trumpet/vocalist/leader (called Leroy Jones), who displayed an extraordinary
range and technique.   Unfortunately, he played in a very obvious mainstream
style, completely out of sorts with the rest of the group.   We stayed for
only the first one-hour bracket, during which time they played just 5
numbers – Down by the Riverside, Old Rugged Cross, Bill Bailey, Just a
Closer Walk with Thee, and the Saints.    Each number had the same formula –
3 ensemble choruses to start, then 3 solo choruses from each member (in the
same order), as well as extended vocals from the trumpet player.
Fortunately, the drummer mostly did only 2-chorus drum solos!    The regular
format for each solo from all players was a dead-straight first chorus,
followed by 2 improvised choruses – invariably fairly ordinary and short of
good ideas - except for the trumpet player who did a “James Morrison” each
time!    A well-respected Tassie jazz muso once said of their music – “tired
old men playing tired old music!”   Well, he was half right, since two were
young, and one of them was a woman!   It seemed a relief to me when the
solos were finally completed - then there was a finale of 2 or 3 ensembles –
also very straight playing!

So Preservation Hall was a little bit of a musical disappointment for us – I
guess I had expected some up-tempo, foot-tapping traditional jazz with some
more interesting repertoire – so perhaps I should have checked with Google
on the internet first, and obtained a different expectation?    We didn’t
see any of the jazz fireworks at Preservation Hall that I had anticipated,
and I guess it was just the hallowed venue that still made the visit most
worthwhile, and despite what I’ve just said I’m glad that I did get there
anyway.   During the performance I sat there thinking about all those
wonderful old musos who had played there in the past.  I would have loved
the opportunity to have a chat with the players during the break, but they
all disappeared backstage very rapidly, before I could get near.   So to
balance this report, here are some excerpts about Preservation Hall from
Google:-
You could walk right past Preservation Hall and never know it's there ………..
You'd be in New Orleans, in the middle of the day, between Bourbon and
Royal, at the centre of the most musical neighborhood in America.  All
around there's music playing - a babble of zydeco and Cajun, jazz, funk and
hip-hop.   It blares from doorways and windows that face the street in the
old French Quarter of New Orleans.  Lights glare everywhere - everywhere,
except outside Preservation Hall - 726 St. Peter Street, whose worn wood
walls fade nearly into shadow.  Even so, as evening settles, people find the
address and start forming the line that eventually winds all the way down
the block.

Soon the gate swings open, and everyone files inside. Passing through the
entryway, past the posters announcing appearances by the Preservation Hall
Jazz Band in Moscow, in San Francisco with Santana during the Summer of
Love, in parts of the world beyond the reach of English, they fill the main
room. Lights are low, furniture is rudimentary - some benches, cushions
scattered in front, paintings of musicians, their dignity undimmed within
the faded colors. The wooden floor is buckled and rough. Pegboards patch the
old stone walls.  In front, before the tall windows which somehow make St.
Peter Street seem far, far away, are the simple chairs, the upright piano,
the thirty-year-old drum set -- the altar in this church, where the
Preservation Hall Jazz Band is about to work its magic.

So has it been nearly every night since this venue opened as Preservation
Hall.  The building itself dates as far back as 1750, when it served as a
tavern.  Over the centuries, aside from being rebuilt after suffering damage
during the Battle of New Orleans in 1812, it maintained its original design.
  Tenants came and went: A doctor's office, a butcher shop, a clothing
store, studios for artists and photographers. Through much of the 1950s it
was home to Associated Artists, a gallery run by Larry Borenstein, a
Milwaukee transplant lured by the city's mystique.  He took to spicing up
his openings by inviting musicians to drop by and perform. Many had known
the founding fathers of jazz:  Punch Miller, for example, a frequent
visitor, had played 30 years before with Jelly Roll Morton and King Oliver,
both of them already figures of folklore in American music, George Lewis had
ties to the equally celebrated trombonist Kid Ory, and bassist Papa John
Joseph went even further back - to Buddy Bolden, the mythic progenitor of
jazz who blew his last trumpet chorus before the era of sound recording had
begun.

In 1961, Borenstein transferred management of the facility to Allan Jaffe, a
former market researcher at the Gimbels department store, and his wife
Sandra, both of whom left New York after falling under the spell of New
Orleans. A gifted musician himself, Jaffe felt drawn to the city by a force
that was impossible to explain or resist. With his Wharton business degree
and a secure job, he had every assurance of a comfortable life in
Philadelphia - all of which he abandoned by impulsively moving into a house
just two blocks away from the gallery. It was, as his son Benjamin recalls,
both an irrational and inspired decision.
"I only heard my parents discuss how their life could have been one time. I
did hear him say that Preservation Hall was hardly the best financial
investment he ever made, but walking into that space for the very first time
had a tremendous impact on him. He wanted it to remain exactly as it was at
that time, so that other people could have that same experience. So they
made their life choice and eventually launched Preservation Hall.  The
Jaffes transformed the building into a venue unlike any other in the city.
It was, first of all, dedicated to performance only: Where clubs throughout
the French Quarter used live music as bait for bar business, Preservation
Hall served no alcohol or refreshment. And where bookers-- not just local
but all across America - naturally sought the trendiest acts in order to
pull in maximum numbers of customers, the Jaffes dedicated themselves only
to supporting New Orleans jazz and those who played it.

Paradoxically, its non-commercial nature helped transform this labor of love
into an international phenomenon. Preservation Hall became a refuge for the
living legends of this music, many of whom had been playing gigs that
mimicked rather than celebrated the essence of New Orleans -- or not playing
gigs at all. Brought back to prominence through nightly shows at the Hall,
these artists presented traditional jazz in a different light, in which
respect took the place of the gimmicky abuses inflicted on it by Dixieland.
, Listeners took notice; before long they were standing shoulder to shoulder
for each set, all the way back into the dark recesses of the room. The media
followed; within a year or two Preservation Hall had been covered on
national television and by Time, Downbeat, The New York Times, and other
prominent publications.

As curiosity grew, invitations began arriving for the band to play far past
the city limits. In 1963 it traveled to Chicago for its first road
engagement. In a sense, that marked the beginning of a tour that goes on to
this day. The first international concerts, (usually with musicians drawn
from all over but using the Preservation Hall logo) followed just a few
months later, on a swing through Japan. From villages in Africa to the
Mexico City Olympics, from the Soviet Union to the White House, the original
vanguard - clarinetist Willie Humphrey, trumpeters Percy Humphrey and DeDe
Pierce, bassist Papa John Joseph, pianists Billie Pierce and Sweet Emma
Barrett, and the rest.  They recruited listeners who couldn't speak English,
but understood the emotion behind "Basin Street Blues" or "Just a Little
While to Stay."

At the same time the veterans brought younger acolytes into their circle and
passed along the wisdom they'd picked up as apprentices to the original jazz
greats. Some of them descended from local royalty, like Lucien Barbarin,
grand-nephew of Paul Barbarin, longtime drummer for Louis Armstrong. Others
like French-born multi-reed player Jacques Gauthé, came as pilgrims to study
with the masters. All shared a commitment to keep New Orleans jazz alive
through their association with Preservation Hall - which meant honoring the
music and allowing it to evolve, as opposed to just replicating the style as
it was developed nearly a century ago.

For its first 16-odd years Preservation Hall's new rise to renown was
facilitated by Allan Jaffe. Whether playing tuba with the group in town or
on tour, booking engagements throughout the world, or delivering groceries
to an ailing musician, Jaffe was as atypical as the Hall itself: equal parts
humanitarian and businessman, compassionate and competitive, uncompromising
in his allegiance to the players and culture of New Orleans.  And so his
sudden passing at age 51, just three months after his melanoma had been
diagnosed, set off a shock wave that reverberated far beyond his family
throughout the city, and out to wherever he and the band had scattered the
seeds of traditional jazz.

The impact of his death is felt even now, as his son Benjamin relates. "I
grew up with Shannon Powell, one of the drummers who often plays with the
band now. My dad used to bring him to Preservation Hall and take him along
on gigs when he was just a kid. Just the other day Shannon said to me, 'You
know what? If it wasn't for your Dad, none of this would have happened.' And
he's right. Other people had tried to make places like Preservation Hall
work, but none of them had the clarity and the love that my parents had. To
this day I believe that if my parents had gone back to Philadelphia, New
Orleans music wouldn't be what it is today."

Growing up in the French Quarter, wandering from his home at age six to hang
around Preservation Hall and listen to the music seven days a week,
befriending the band members, Ben understood that he would eventually follow
his father as director of the institution. He also appreciated the
uniqueness of this position in its combination of professional and personal
involvement.   "My parents weren't club owners. They weren't in the bar
business. They weren't the bosses of the people who played for them. They
were there to drive a musician to the hospital or help them with the things
that they might need. That felt natural to me: Harold Dejan, who led the
Olympia Brass Band, was my godfather; my earliest memory is having him come
to our house with gumbo on Christmas day. These people were part of my
family. I loved them, just as I still do today."

After becoming director of Preservation Hall, Ben made it his mission to
follow in his father's footsteps. This means everything from booking and
playing with the band (Ben is a string bass player with a College music
degree), to visiting a retired member of the group to give him his weekly
haircut. The bigger picture, which involves maintaining the Hall's balance
between tradition and vitality, is just as important. The essentials of the
style - playing within tempos that reflect its ties to marching in parades,
solos that come from the heart more than from any compulsion to "show off,"
an abiding connection to the blues and to infectious rhythm - remain
unchanged, even as new generations of band members also draw from more
contemporary influences. The result is the dance between past and present
that gives their music an organic quality seldom achieved outside of this
institution.

To spread the message further still, Jaffe, with Steve DeBro and Albert Lee
of Facility Partners, launched Preservation Hall Recordings in January 2004.
The band has recorded and issued many albums since the 60s, but with an
in-house imprint access to their music has widened considerably. The first
several releases present a wide perspective on the music of New Orleans,
from archival (Best of the Early Years) to more recent recordings (Songs of
New Orleans, recorded in 1999), from sweeping overviews (Shake That Thing,
which gathers all active members of the group in one marathon session from
2001) to portraits of unforgettable performers (Sweet Emma, featuring the
colorful, irascible, and brilliant pianist Sweet Emma Barrett and members of
the band circa 1964, and Let's Make a Record, a tour de force one-woman
performance on vocals and tambourine by the late Sister Gertrude Morgan).

For all the history that's been made at Preservation Hall, the story seems
to be just beginning. And whenever the band takes to the stage, no matter
where in the world it may be, the music draws us back to that storefront at
726 St. Peter Street, where time holds its breath in nightly communion with
the spirits of New Orleans.
About the building:-
The building housing Preservation Hall, (which survived the 1794 French
Quarter fire), is one of the oldest surviving buildings in the Quarter. It
was built as a private residence just five years after the oldest building
in the Quarter (the Old Ursuline Convent at 112 Chartres Street - built in
1745).   During the War of 1812, the building housed a tavern.
The origins of the revitalized Preservation Hall go back to the start of the
1960s and an Art Gallery run by local entrepreneur Larry Bornstein. Many
older jazz musicians were then minimally employed, and Bornstein arranged
for some of them to play for tips in the gallery to help draw in potential
customers. More people started coming for the music than the art. Allan
Jaffe took over running of the Hall, and made it into a famous institution
in part by ignoring the then prevalent ideas of what was needed for a
successful music business - there was no dance floor, and no food or drinks
were served, the focus being just on the music.   In addition to the French
Quarter Hall, bands of New Orleans musicians tour the world under the
Preservation Hall Jazz Band name.
In August of 2005, the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina forced Preservation
Hall to close although the building remains intact.  The first post-Katrina
performance at Preservation Hall took place on April 27-28, 2006,
commemorating its 45th Anniversary.