Capitol Jazz, 2006
I have the rare privilege to work in a place and be involved in activities that allow me to travel this great country of ours. In any given year my travels may find me in San Diego or Orlando; Chicago or Atlanta; Kansas City or Pittsburgh…or some other corner, larger or smaller than these.
One city I get the opportunity to venture into at least once a year is our capitol, Washington, DC. I could go on and on about the wonders and awe striking things that are located in DC…about how patriotic I get when I see the Lincoln Memorial…about how I cry when I find the name of a family friend on the Viet Nam Memorial Wall…it’s all there…all a part of the experience. However, this little editorial is about a lesser known monument in DC. One that is doing its best to preserve live music and instill a love and appreciation for it in the community where it’s located.
The name of the place is HR-57 (www.hr57.org), located on 14th Street, a couple of blocks up from Rhode Island Avenue. I wandered into HR-57 my first night in DC to check out what the hotel concierge said was "some of the best local jazz you’ll find in the city." The place is unassuming and humble from the outside. Once inside though, the venue comes alive with smooth jazz like you have never heard. The staff is friendly. The room is basically split into two rooms, one for smokers and one for non-smokers. A visitor with an itch for it can also sit down and play a game of chess at one of the two boards near the front door.
That first night I listened to a band that I never got the name of. I did, however, recognize one of the gentlemen playing that evening. Mr. Buck Hill, a longtime time sax and clarinet player was on stage with the band. I had heard of and heard Hill a few times before. I had the pleasure of meeting this man, now 79 years young, and sharing a brief conversation with him during a break. The man is amazingly sharp and can still blow sax with the best of them.
I also got to meet the proprietor of HR-57, Tony (and you’ll have to forgive me here. I got Tony’s last name but I didn’t get the spelling, so rather than butcher it, I’ll leave it at Tony). I was actually about to leave for the evening. I had walked to the end of the bar, smoking a cigar and Tony struck up a conversation with me about stogies. Once we got going, we became quick friends. The conversation went from cigars and music to golf and matters of race. I found Tony to be unassuming and a pleasure to be around. He also shared with me the origin of the name of the club.
HR-57 is named for the House Resolution passed by congress in 1987, designating jazz as "a rare and valuable national American treasure". The proper name is the HR-57 Center for the Preservation of Jazz and Blues. It is home to live music four nights a week, provides lectures and workshops on music history and offers music lessons for beginning and advanced musicians. HR-57 sponsors a youth jazz orchestra and is in the process of planning a recording studio. The venue is not unknown to musicians either. HR-57 has had Wynton Marsalis on its stage among others.
My last night in DC, I made it back for a weeknight jam session hosted by the outstanding trumpeter, Donvonte McCoy. McCoy shared with me that he had been playing some 20 years, most recently with the blended, electric jazz band, New Soil. Influenced by the likes of Clifford Brown, McCoy has shared the stage with a number of jazz greats including doing time in a band with Curtis Fuller and Lionel Hampton.
Sharing the stage with McCoy that night were Bill Washburn on drums (and piano), Mark Saltman on the upright bass, and Ron Gary tickling the ivories. McCoy also got behind the drums for a couple of numbers. This was an extremely talented group of jammers. Washburn is a big guy with amazing rhythm, towering over the drums when he plays. Saltman played some of the crispest bass lines I’ve ever heard on a stand up. Gary’s piano work was smooth and soulful. These guys were very tight for a jam band…very impressive and professional.
There were several locals that got up to play, including a pretty sharp young piano player, but one that stuck out for me was a lovely young vocalist named Edith Sodolo. Fresh off graduation from Howard University, Sodolo works by day and sings by night. Sodolo’s vocals are raw but oh so powerful. She finished her time on the stage by dedicating her final song, "At Last", to her new friend David (that’d be me in case you are not following along). I loved it!
When the jam was over I shook hands with the band and wandered to the front. I found Tony playing chess with a willing victim and letting him know about it too. "Somebody get a camera and put this on the computer!" he laughed as he swiped another chess piece. When the game was over, we shook hands and said our farewells.
If you get to DC be sure to check out the monuments. They are truly great and inspiring. One of my favorite monuments though is HR-57... a living, breathing tribute to jazz and blues. Here’s to new friends and good music.