Just over two years ago, I left a
permanent lecturing post, to take up my new position as Project Coordinator of
The Delft Big Band. My role also included working on other projects supported by Survé
Philanthropies, like World’s Children’s Prize and Sekunjalo Edujazz.
It took me a while to get to know
all the band members’ names, let alone what instrument each one played. Now,
not only can I rattle off each one’s name and
surname, but I also know the difference between an alto and a tenor saxophone! Yay!
😊 When I started this job, I didn’t even know
that, in a big band chart, each voice (1st alto sax, 2nd
alto sax, etc.) played a different part – that’s
how ignorant I was about big band matters!
In the latter half of 2016, the
band went through a difficult time, as simmering conflict had come to the fore.
The board hired a conflict resolution facilitator, but the process did not
yield the healing that was envisaged, as the founder (and most of the board)
resigned. An awful period followed, with a strong possibility of the project
folding. The single factor that kept it
alive was a decision by the band members to remain in the project, and to
continue playing music together. One member had resigned during the conflict,
and there were a few gaps, as the band had never had a full, permanent line-up.
Sekunjalo, which had supported the band from its early years, became the
primary funder, and the band was renamed the Sekunjalo Delft Big Band. Today, they
can proudly take to the stage as a full, 18-piece band of permanent
members.
Sekunjalo Delft Big Band at Jazz on the Lawn, 21/03/18
Many changes have occurred, since
the band’s new era began, all in line with the developmental goals of the
project. Most of the band members teach at the project’s music academy (held on
Saturday mornings, in Delft), and there are more leadership positions, where
band members can grow and learn. In general, the project has become a lot more
beneficiary-focussed, there is much better communication all-round, and the
band members have experienced a shift in the ethos of the NPC. Regular meetings
and workshops are held, and decisions are made in consultation with the band
members. The split of gig fees is transparent, and the gig earning structure
completely flattened – everyone is a
star, so you all earn the same fee.
If we hire a professional, to stand in as a dep, he/she earns what the members
earn. As I said, the ethos has shifted.
If I start talking about the
band, I can’t stop, so I’ll be very honest – it is impossible for me to be
aloof about the band members. I am getting to know them better, as time goes
by, and they’re getting to know me. I know how bad they feel when gigs are
scarce and I’ve seen them shine like diamonds when their gig schedule is busy.
Like two weeks ago, when they had three big gigs in one week, including the
Cape Town International Jazz Festival.
The band at the 2018 Cape Town International Jazz Festival
Behind the scenes we were sorting
out their new suits, so that they could step onstage at an international jazz
festival, looking and feeling cool! I watched them fit their jackets, tease
each other, complain about sleeve lengths and waist sizes, argue about what
size fitted whom best, until they were eventually all sorted, and we left the
factory smiling. I watched them with pride, that day, as an unforeseen thing
had cropped up, and they’d quickly huddled, conferred, and presented me with a
solution. I tried hard not to beam too much.
On Tuesday (two days ago), I left
work, went to buy things for the academy, and drove to Delft to drop them at a
band member’s house. On the way home, I stopped somewhere else, on another band
errand. It was getting late, I was tired and hungry, so I headed home for a
restful evening.
Just before 7:30pm, I got a call
from a shocked and angry band manager, telling me they’d just entered the band
room and discovered that the place had been broken into, and all the equipment
stolen! My heart broke into a million pieces. I had to force myself not to say,
“’I’m on my way.” I was exhausted, and I needed to rest. I ended up spending
most of the evening on the phone with different band members, getting updates
and offering advice. They had to abandon band practice - the sound equipment
had been stolen, as had the keyboard, two amplifiers, a mic & mic stand,
the music stands, half the drum kit and drum hardware of a few kits. The upright
piano had been vandalised, the fridge had been damaged, and the place was in
disarray. The robbers had got in by breaking through the brick wall at a spot
that was not visible by the security cameras.
I called the chairperson of the
board, then let the rest of the board know. The chair and I agreed the media
should be alerted. I sent an email late that night, and the next day, a
journalist called me. Her article appeared in the Cape Argus this morning, and
arising from it, we managed to have three radio interviews so far, with another
one happening tomorrow morning. Five minutes after one of the interviews, a
member of the public called me to donate an amplifier. I fetched it tonight.
Yesterday, while I was at the
band room with the band manager and one of the academy coordinators, we talked
about the things we urgently needed to resolve, and one of them was securing a
rehearsal space with sound equipment. I contacted Camillo Lombard (jazz maestro
and Principal of Cape Music Institute), who immediately offered rehearsal space
at his school. We felt a lot better after Camillo’s warm response. It was a real glimmer of hope.
I observed the two band members
closely, and felt so sad for them! I remembered that they hadn’t seen the jazz
festival footage yet, so I took out my laptop, and we watched a bit of it.
Immediately, they brightened up, as they watched with delight. One of them
said, “’Now I understand why you said we must all watch it together!”’ And
that’s what we plan to do, as soon as possible. We need to get together, laugh
together, and heal together. The material things can be sorted out, in time,
but the feeling of being violated, when we’re not exactly rolling in money, and
when things were just starting to feel great, needs to be assuaged.
A light moment before the soundcheck at the jazz festival
I have had a tension headache
since Tuesday night. It’s right down my back, in fact. I’ve been forgetting
things, and been easily distracted. I’ve had that feeling of having a big cry
inside that wants to come out. There’s been a lot to deal with, and all I want
to do is make it right, make the pain go away – for the band. As much as I
believe it will all eventually be fine, I am impatient for it to happen. I’m
angry as hell that this has happened to what I affectionately call “’my favourite
band”.
On the 23rd of March,
as the band played their last note at the jazz festival, one of our board
members exclaimed, “This band is ready to fly!” I want them to fly. They are more
than ready. They stuck it out when things were rough, they gave the new board a
chance, and they weathered 2017, which we called our Year of Transition. At the
beginning of 2018, I noticed a new energy in the band, an excitement about
being a full band, about playing together, and about the possibilities that lay
ahead. The year started with some nice gigs, morale was high - and then this!
Today, in preparation for a radio
interview, I asked some of the band members to send me voice messages of how
they were feeling. What struck me was how philosophical they all were,
expressing the view that, no matter what had happened, everything would be okay
and that great things lay ahead.
I am extremely lucky to be
working with such fine young people. I want the best for them, because they
deserve the best. I believe that this event is an unexpected turning point in
the band’s life, and that nothing will be the same after this. This band is indeed
ready to fly!
My favourite band (plus a techie) - but where's Nash?! (Must've taken the pic.)
Jazz on the Lawn, 21/03/18, at St Joseph's Marist College, in Rondebosch
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