Collecting egg cartons! Why we need a jazz club like Persepolis.

Wondrous story: Utrecht had a famous jazz club between 1957 and 1967. It was founded - including egg cartons on the vault - by jazz-loving teenagers. Not only the fine fleur of Dutch jazz performed there, but also many an international big name. As part of Utrecht's Cultural Sundays, last Sunday (23 April) in a wharf cellar on the Oude Gracht, that special history was successfully evoked by three Dutch jazz ensembles of renown.

The massed audience thoroughly enjoyed themselves and soon there was at least one thought in the air: where was Persepolis?

Across the canal

The presenter on duty, Utrecht jazz bassist Hans Mantel, immediately started with the question that concerned many: was this really the exact location? After all, details are very important in the perception of nostalgia. Alas, the original Persepolis sat right across the water. This one-day jazz venue is currently a ZZP hub on idealistic grounds. A question tormenting your reporter: from whence then that name Persepolis? That is nowhere in the articles back. Unfortunately, Mantel did not explain this mystery any further either.

Kirrende pensionados

Well before the door to the wharf cellar opened, a long line of jazz lovers had already formed, most of them elderly. It turned out to be a meeting of stature: cheerfully cooing pensioners could be heard everywhere in a convivial reunion after decades. The programme featured trumpeter Ack van Rooijen, the ICP Octet and 'Tribute to Wayne Shorter' by saxophonist Ad Colen, among others. It offered a perfect balance between nostalgic jazz and current improvisation. Utrecht's Cultural Sundays are a popular and powerful means of spreading culture among the unconverted, but offering this line-up for free? Actually, it's a travesty.

Heavenly manna

Trumpeter Ack van Rooijen, born 1 January 1930 (!) performed on flugelhorn[ref]relative of the trumpet, with a pleasantly shrouded sound[/ref] a tuneful set of Chet Baker repertoire, with pianist Rein de Graaff, bassist Ernst Glerum and drummer Han Bennink in pleasantly serving roles. Bennink has the international reputation of being an uncaged tiger, but that image is only part of the story. Bennink gave Ack van Rooijen and Rein de Graaff all the space they needed for fragile, sensitive solos, which were taken up by the audience like heavenly manna.

ICP in sparkle

ICP then opened their set in octet form with one and all sparkle. A bit nervous is a composition by the recently deceased founder of ICP Orchestra, also creator of the phenomenon of 'instant composing', Misha Mengelberg. Followed by the compositions Mealworm, Garden Fence and Smelling salt - the man had a talent for pithy titles.

Whereas beforehand I was mostly curious to see how they were playing now, so soon after Mengelberg's funeral, the ICP turned out to be playing more intensely than ever. It suddenly occurred to me: maybe this year is also the year of a certain liberation for them. No reason to worry about this internationally renowned cross between a swinging jazz band and a chamber orchestra.

Ode to listening

Bennink always plays with the focus of a Zen master, but in the privacy of a wharf cellar, it is only really noticeable how beautifully everyone plays and how organically it all falls together. How easily one switches from powerfully swinging Ellington jazz to contemporary classical inspirations and free sounds that never miss the mark. Undergoing ICP is and remains an experience like nothing else. This concert was not just an ode to the jazz club of yesteryear. This was an ode to listening as such.

We name some highlights, because obviously the homebody was wrong. 12 bars, for Herbie Nichols, again a composition by Mengelberg, who has been internationally acclaimed for the way in which he has interpreted Nichols' oeuvre (which includes Lady sings the blues composed, but was only widely recognised after his death) has unlocked for the future.

'Tobyyy!'

A beautifully embraced version of Take the "a" train, with just snatches of melody tickling the memory, without beating it to death in faded-out nostalgia. Tobias Delius who blew out a short, blazing solo that left Bennink shouting, "Tobyyy!". Wolter Wierbos on trombone moved deeply. Suddenly (his colleagues looked up at him lovingly for a moment), he stepped to the centre of the stage for a blues-soaked solo that truly pierced through the marrow. The man is sad, but what a sound he gets out of his trombone.

Gemishamengelbergde Monk

Guus Janssen did homage to his great predecessor with upbeat 'guajeos', those typical piano riffs from which salsa derives its mind-boggling dance potential. But in doing so, he also added something substantially new to the ICP sound.

Finally, Thelonious Monk was beautifully 'mishamengelbergt'. Again, a loving sublimation rather than a bored quoting to demonstrate that you know your classics, which is common in much jazz.

Overcoming chaos, in Mood Indigo

In times of Trump, jazz is perhaps the single strongest statement you can make as a human being on this ecologically finite planet. Pursuing a collective, while maintaining individual character. Your reporter was already in catnip when the ICP Octet put its ultimate trump card on the table: Mood Indigo, perhaps the most beautiful melody in jazz. A melody capable of overcoming chaos.

More than a stage?

The writer of this post will hopefully be forgiven for saying that after this, it was necessary to gasp air, enjoy sunshine and drink coffee in the otherwise award-winning coffee shop right above 'Persepolis 2017'.

Finally, that thought that I'm sure everyone in the basement was thinking. We have the huge Tivoli-Vredenburg, in which all genres of music can be offered facility-perfectly. But isn't a hall much more than a stage for musicians? Isn't it ironic that the Dutch government erects very expensive cultural buildings everywhere, while audiences migrate en masse to festivals and off beat locations such as churches and old office buildings? This ZZP hub calls for a small series of jazz and other music that lends itself to this location.

The pensionados of 2060 are asking for it.