Jazz, after World War II, lost some of its sense of fun—Ornette Coleman isn't generally played at barbecues. Masters like Coltrane played gorgeous, sophisticated music, but it wasn't exactly fun. Gypsy jazz, on the other hand, often induces helpless grinning among audiences. Though it's every bit as complicated musically as most jazz, the uninitiated are likely to notice only blazing speed and more chord changes per minute than 48 pop songs combined, set in a laid-back, acoustic context.
Gypsy jazz is acoustic guitar music, though occasionally other instruments can be seen nearby, mostly fiddle, accordion and bass or the occasional clarinet. The genre, largely invented by Belgian Gypsy guitar virtuoso Django Reinhardt and his Hot Club quintet, often seems closer to acoustic folk traditions than something you'd hear in the rarefied air of a New York jazz club. It's freewheeling, Eastern-flavored campfire music, a cousin of klezmer or bluegrass, but with plenty of jazz-fuelled headiness lurking beneath the surface, propelled by an insistent, speed-inducing rhythm called "la pompe" (the pump).
Though Gypsy jazz is growing tremendously in popularity among musicians, most people have never heard of Django Reinhardt. (Once a stranger asked me what that music was, and when I said, "Django Reinhardt," she replied, "Jingle Rhino?") Reinhardt lived 43 years, from 1910 to 1953, but the style he popularized has gone far beyond its beginnings in '30s and '40s Paris. Its resurgence follows many years of Django's Hot Club of France style being a mere footnote to modern jazz, though it lived on in the playing of a few Gypsy practitioners.
This demanding, deeply rewarding music may not be often heard even now, but Northampton, happily, can boast one of the finest Gypsy jazz gatherings in the country. The lineup is full of unusual names—Biel Ballester, Stephane Wrembel, Kruno Spisic, Vladimir Mollov, Wawau Adler, Tim Kliphuis—but rest assured that the festival's founder, head of Community Guitar Andrew Lawrence, knows what he's doing—these are truly world-class players. Lawrence has made a habit of bringing European performers to Northampton for their first American performances. Thanks to, in some cases, years of learning around Gypsy campfires, they are capable of virtuosity that few musicians possess. They are heirs to a tradition with unimaginably high standards that produces deeply appealing music like nothing else.
By the time this story hits the streets, Northampton might well be overwhelmed by a crush of players with unusual acoustic guitars (specialized instruments modelled after the Selmer, the guitar Django played) slung over their shoulders. Among them will be Ted Gottsegen.
Gottsegen is something of an anomaly, an American who not only plays Gypsy jazz, but plays with some of the contemporary masters of the style. He's even played the most hallowed venue in all of Gypsy jazz, the Samois-sur-Seine festival in France, which takes place on the island where Django lived part of his life and where he died in 1953 of a brain hemorrhage. This weekend, Gottsegen will play rhythm guitar with German up-and-comer Wawau Adler. In a recent interview, Gottsegen explained some of the history of the genre and his own involvement with it.
Gypsy jazz nearly died after Reinhardt's death, says Gottsegen. "Just before Django died in 1953, he had all but left behind the classic Hot Club style [popular today]. He was playing electric guitar. He had been re-invigorated. That's where the trends in Paris were headed," says Gottsegen.
"The gypsies diverged on their own paths. Most played electric guitar, doing a combination of French tunes and some Swing Era standards. … In the Gypsy community, Django wasn't really spoken of. Life goes on, especially when you're a nomadic people."
It wasn't until a Dutch Gypsy named Fapy Lafertin came onto the scene in the '70s, playing Django-style, that the old Hot Club sound really made a comeback. From that resurgence, the style has slowly grown to great popularity among musicians worldwide.
"It's gone places I never thought it would go," says Gottsegen. "This virtually unknown Gypsy named Wawau Adler speaks volumes to the unpredictability of the style. He came out with a very aggressive, modern-jazz-meets-Gypsy-jazz style."
Gottsegen has a longer view of the genre than most Americans—he started playing Gypsy jazz in 1993 and '94, when it was yet more uncommon. "Not only could I not find anybody to play with, I couldn't find CDs. Nothing was available," explains Gottsegen. "At first I didn't really understand it. I was used to hearing blue notes injected, and that's largely absent from this music. It took me a while to kind of warm up to it and understand it."
It is that maddening difficulty of Gypsy jazz that makes it, for some, irresistible—master this, and everything else seems easy. "I listened and played for five years, then I went to Europe," says Gottsegen. "My technique was there, but my accents were off. People would tell me, 'You're so close—try this.' So I did a year or two of re-listening, trying to understand. It was a matter of working and working and working."
Gottsegen says early on, Americans had a bad reputation in Gypsy jazz. "At Samois, the playing level was very high. Americans who were enthusiastic and maybe bolstered by too much beer would inject themselves into sessions they weren't, perhaps, ready for."
These days, the genre's popularity is so widespread that even tipsy Americans can find a session to match their playing level, says Gottsegen. That's just what you'll hear the next few days at Smith College—eager Americans playing away in gigantic sessions. (To join their ranks, visit DjangoinJune.com, where you'll find plenty of information on the extensive jamming, and on workshops geared to all playing levels, most with the weekend's top-notch performers themselves.)
The concerts are the fest's big draws. Friday night at 7:30 p.m., the Stephane Wrembel Trio plays with guest Biel Ballester. Wrembel has performed at three Django in June installments, and watching his playing evolve from virtuosic to masterful has almost singlehandedly provided a great reason to attend. Ballester offers an interesting counterpoint with Wrembel—he is a classically-trained Spanish guitarist who heads his own innovative Django-style group, performing sophisticated original works as well as the traditional repertoire.
Saturday night brings a double-header of high caliber. Guitarist Kruno Spisic and accordionist Vladimir Mollov open the show, offering a combination of Gypsy style and Eastern European folk tradition. The headliner is German Gypsy Wawau Adler (with Gottsegen). The show will be Adler's first appearance in America. Listeners will be treated to some new Gypsy jazz territory—Adler's aggressive, modern-jazz approach offers an aesthetic pointing to one of the new directions this vibrant music is taking. Also joining Adler is Dutch violinist Tim Kliphuis, whose svelte stylings bring to mind the graceful playing of Stephane Grappelli.
Gottsegen offers some insight into why you ought to take the word of guitar-crazed Reinhardt wannabes and lend your ears to these Europeans. "It's the sound that entices people. It's the humble, gentle nature of the music. In Paris once, I heard someone listening to Gypsy jazz on their car radio. I was looking around at the architecture, hearing the sounds of Paris, the smells in the air, and I got it."
Thanks to Andrew Lawrence's effort, you can get it this weekend, without all the hassle of getting to Paris. "
Stephane Wrembel Trio with Biel Ballester: June 15, 7:30 p.m.; Wawau Adler, Kruno Spisic and Vladimir Mollov: June 16, 7:30 p.m., Helen Hills Hills Chapel, Smith College, Route 9, Northampton. For info on concerts, workshops or activities (running from presstime through Sun., June 17), call (413) 268-0068 or visit www.djangoinjune.com.
