This was my first ride at Joy of Jazz and it was delightful-magical; and that was mainly the music itself and the people. Day one of three of the festival, spirits are high. People are looking and smelling gorgeous. We are African, talented and blessed to experience the magic of music – that’s that vibe.

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I did not like that venue, specifically for this kind of festival, all that walking and that flat seating. I hated it. Stadium/theatre kind of seating would have been better with the stages.

 

Anyway, I want this piece to reflect the magic that is every artist and their quirks and things that make them, them. I am always curious about the humanity of a performer. Specifically, the journey that led to that one performance I’m experiencing. And that is what? Life itself. Therefore, I get lost in the music but also, I get lost in them. In their story. So, I’m going to highlight my favourite moments in action.

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We started the night at Thandi Ntuli’s set on the Dinaledi Stage with a stellar bandstand. No, I’m talking Bra Sipho Hotstix Mabuse and Om Alec Khaoli, Keenan Ahrends, Mthunzi Mvubu, Sthembiso Bhengu, Shane Cooper, Nompumelelo Nhlapo, Sphelelo Mazibuko.  Also, Sphelelo on vocals, loved it! That mic was so ON! That was a little after some struggles with the Sound Team and the crowd had chanted, “Fix the sound!" Look, I won’t lie. It barely ruined the magic of Thandi Ntuli. What a G!

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So, my favourite thing she does while performing is the rocking whilst she plays the piano. She’ll rock a little left and right, then back and forward. Then she’ll come to the mic, sing, then do some spiritual magic on the piano which makes her give all of herself into creating that, then she lets go and rocks a little again. Not large movements, no. But I like it when she does it.

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Then she belts out the most profound, ‘Perhaps we are afraid that if we say too much, it might become real’. So much soul, that’s what it is.

 

Then I told myself, I’m staying in that venue right after for esperanza. But I needed the bathroom then felt to take a walk around the venue right after. I ended up at the Diphala stage where pianist, Hakan Basar’s Trio was playing. With him on stage, the brilliant bassist, Michelangelo Scandroglio (I experienced his whimsical solo, loved it!) and drummer, Bernado Guerra had a much smaller audience but the space felt much lighter, the quality of the screen and the sound – lovely. Energetic, vibrant trio also.

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And so, I enjoy when Hakan Basar goes low into his piano. He gets inside there. Like there’s this thing he and the piano know and are doing that we could never get or know. And I mean, it’s the music. And more. Another thing he does is he nods.

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I look forward to experiencing more of his work, and witnessing his journey.

 

After two songs by Hakan, I wanted to go back upstairs for esperanza but I dreaded the walk. Does that make me less dedicated? Hmmmm. Oh well, I know I’m just a lazy girl who hates walking. (I’ll hike though.)

 

Well, then we descended to the Conga Stage. That was where Mam’ Oumou Sangare’s stage was and OMG. On arrival, the energy was charged. It was the first stage I experienced people on their feet dancing. And you know, I love to dance. It felt like we walked into a celebration. The air and the energy were undeniable, fresh, light. The quality of the sound and the screen here was also up there. I never took a seat at all because I just stood there mesmerised by her magic. By her herness. On her bandstand - Abou Diarra-Ngoniabou, Julien Pestre, Alexandre Millet, Dibo Mike, Edouard Coquard. I loved the back-up singers, Kandy Guira Officiel and ⁠Emma Lamadji. And their dancing; yes!

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What a regal African bold and rebellious woman. I like that. When you can just see that firecracker energy in someone.

 

Mam’ Oumou Sangare performs with her hands – the way you would say ‘give’ or ‘take’ or ‘here’ or ‘why’ ; she does that one a lot. She also goes wide open with her arms and for storytelling purposes uses her hands. My most favourite one by her is the slight head bopping. And the looking down kind of absorbing the music and its power. And the eyes. Mysterious, enchanting but fiery; absolutely strong.

 

I have to commend that energy that ignited everyone's spirit and the body to want to move - that was mad special. 

​Mam' Oumou Sangare aura is equally gangster and regal and graceful with the most perfect Afro. It was an absolute blessing to catch her live for the first time the way we did.

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That was all from our night on Friday at Joy of Jazz, I left quite exhausted. I was clearly not prepared for all that walking. I missed out on esperanza, yes, and on Ababhemu Quartet.'

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So, the next day… well, I was still the same lazy girl. But I managed to add one more artist than the previous day.

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Our first go-to on arrival Saturday night was Gabi Motuba, right there at the entrance – the Conga Stage. Oh man, light. That is what I’ll say about Gabi Motuba and her music.

I always resonate with her sentiments surrounding the music she connects with her late dad. Grief is so insane. But I know she’ll be fine. Because I listen to her music and believe I will be fine. Anyway, she had a lovely bandstand too. With Tumi Mogorosi, Reza Khota, Robin Fassie, Joshua Nemaire and the strings up there. She was draped in the most beautiful white dress by Fikile Sokhulu. I want it.

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So, her quirk – I like the singing with her hands. It’s like she places her notes gently away. It’s like also in a conducting kind of way. She shakes her head and kind of springs with or on her knees, like up and down. I’d say it looks like praying, like expressing, feeling, presence. 

If you’ve seen the hand one, you know it’s cool. I find myself trying it. Am I weird? Lmao

 

Then we immediately went to The Siya Makuzeni Big Band on the Dinaledi Stage. Oh, yes! I loved that. You know, we made eye contact at some point outside and I was stupid starstruck. Anyway, there she is, with her big voice and her trombone. And her sass. And her music.

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She has a couple of quirks that I like. The thing she does with her lips and her mouth when she sings certain notes; sort of like an o-shape. But it’s to the side kind of. She plays with her face to make notes, a lot. I love it! That’s a reflection of a lot of experimenting, finding, playing, mastery(ing). Then she also moves - the hips and the shoulders. Oh, the woman that she is! Please, I would rewatch the whole performance of *Pulled strings/Loose strings for the rest of my life. Thanks.

*It’s a new song and I’m not sure about the name. Vuyo helped me with this one, thank you.

 

Makuzeni’s audience was the most packed of all the acts I’d experienced. Iconic composer, thanks. I’ll never finish that bandstand, but it included Sydney Mavundla, Bokani Dyer, Dalisu Ndlazi, Muhammad Dawjee, Michael Nkuna, Thabo Sikhakhane, Robin Fassie, Steven Sokuyeka, Sphelelo Mazibuko, Mthunzi Mvubu, Ofentse Sebula to mention but a few.

 

Shortly after, Nomfundo Xaluva would go on the Dinaledi Stage. I had never heard her music extensively and live before. And damn, not one song I didn’t like. That is not an even exaggeration. She is so honest and straightforward in her music. Her voice, powerful.

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My favourite quirk of hers is that she sings with her head. So, she will shake it or nod or go all the way round with it, kind of matter-of-factly. She also does the hands that are kind of conducting and it sometimes extends to the arms. But staccato kind of. Ugh, I love it. I love her. I found myself singing Bayathetha’s ‘Ndimhle, ndiyintombi enesdima, ndihambela phezulu’ the whole of the next day. Yeah, she moved me. With Kevin Gibson, Brathew Van Schalkway, Wesley Rustin, Pam Lunguza, Marzia Barry and Asemahle Tsholoba on the bandstand. Metaphors are great, yeah. And maybe she does use them, but she writes honestly and it matches how she moves. It’s very: this is real, this is me and I’m here. Ndilapha. I cried so much when she sang Hymn for Bulie. On grief. Siyabulela uMa ka Zizi.

 

 

We then ended our Joy of Jazz experience with the remarkable ever-flowing Meshell Ndegeochello on the Conga Stage.

She sings with her hands too, but uses them how you would in a conversation. Especially when she recites her writing or poetry. Storyteller. And when she moves, it’s so cool. I liked that honestly. When she’s on the bass, her legs sometimes make an appearance as knee-jerks or her shoulders will go in. Yeah, the whole body is engaged.  You just know she feels that music in her soul. All of it.

We didn’t get to hear all her music but she’s a deep conscious woke lovergirl quoting James Baldwin and shit. It was like a mirror for me, that experience. On the bandstand with Justin Hicks, Chris Bruce Abe Rounds, Jake Sherman.

Down At The Cross – Meshell Ndegeochello, that’s what I’ll leave you with.

 

I obviously missed out on that last day of the festival – Kyle Shepherd, Muneyi, Jazzmeia Horn, Ababhemu and esperanza again.

 

Nevertheless,

Line-up! 10/10

Energy and partners also 10/10!

Venue 2/10!

Rollout, cool as hell 10/10!

Many moments I would redo.

 

Anyway, I wanted to share my POV and my observing of these little actions because it’s part of how I experience people and the world. And this was something I wanted to share that felt special.

 

Because these artists are really just little girls and little boys who grew up and harnessed and lived and trained and lived and still live and share their stories and fire with us. They are their music, yes. But they are also them.

 

With their hearts and their minds and their souls and quirks.