November | 2019 | toothpicnations

It has been many years since I last visited Jazz Cafe in Camden. In recent years, I tend to go to ‘proper’ concerts at the Barbican and South Bank where I would sit quite still for hours. I think I have almost forgotten the joy of standing (and dancing) at a concert. Yet in November, I went to Jazz Cafe twice to see the Japanese folk band Minyo Crusaders, and Algerian Berber singer and guitarist Souad Massi.

I have not heard of Minyo Crusaders before, but I was intrigued when I found out that they rework traditional Japanese folk songs (minyo) with Latin, African and Caribbean rhythms to create inventive music. The band launched their debut album “Echoes of Japan” in 2017 (and reissued in 2019) and has since gain fans from around the world.

The 10-piece group was co-founded by Katsumi Tanaka and Freddie Tsukamoto, with the goal of reviving minyō as a ‘music for the people’. There is a retro feel to the band, but at the same time, it also feels refreshing and unique.

The history of minyō can be traced back centuries and it has been passed down for generations in villages and rural communities. Often accompanied by dancing, minyō usually portrays a local story or scenery, and it is played during neighborhood festivals and other communal gatherings. By experimenting and fusing with Latin, jazz and other forms of contemporary music, Minyo Crusaders has successfully revived ‘old-fashioned’ minyō into something cool and distinctive.

Honestly, I have not had so much fun at a concert for ages. The atmosphere was lively and vivacious, and the audience clearly loved the catchy tunes. Everyone was dancing away, and none of us wanted the night to end. I highly recommend seeing them live, because they are fantastic on stage, and you are likely to love them more after the concert.

Less than 2 weeks later, I returned to Jazz cafe to see Algerian Berber singer, songwriter and guitarist Souad Massi. Souad has been active since the late 80s, and regularly performs in the UK (since she resides in Paris). I have been to her concert at the Barbican a few years ago, but compare to the music hall at Barbican, the smaller and more intimate setting at Jazz Cafe enables the audience to get closer to the stage and performers. Thus, the experience was more memorable and compelling. Distance, in this case, matters.

Like Minyo Crusaders, Souad Massi likes to incorporate different genres into her music, including rock, country, fado, oriental, and Algerian folk… meanwhile, she also sings in Arabic, French, English and Berber – she truly is a world music artist. Often, the lyrics of Souad’s songs contain political messages, which resulted in her fleeing Algeria to Paris when the political messages of her band Atakor attracted death threats.

At Jazz cafe, Souad performed songs from her 6th and newest album Oumniya, featuring themes on Algeria, politics, love, freedom and emancipation – topics that matter to her and many others. As much as I like listening to Souad on CD or Spotify, it still lacks the impact of her live performances, accompanied by her brilliant band.

After the two fantastic concerts, I can’t wait to return to Jazz Cafe again for more music from different parts of the world.

Here is a short clip of the concert recorded by Julian Evenden.

Sapphire Star, 2010

I am not sure why it took me so long to visit the ‘Chihuly – Reflections on nature‘ exhibition at Kew Gardens, but I finally managed to catch it a few days before it ended. It was not the best day to visit Kew, but the autumn foliage made up for the grey and drizzly weather.

I was glad that I made it because I thought it was was the best U.K. exhibition I saw this year. American artist Dale Chihuly‘s stunning nature-inspired glass sculptures did not look out of place at Kew, in fact, they undoubtedly enhanced the gardens in many ways.

With a map in hand, I wandered around the gardens in search for his 32 sculptures installed at 12 different locations. Aside from the Rotunda Chandelier at the V & A entrance, I don’t recall seeing a lot of Dale Chilhuly‘s works in the U.K., so this exhibition was a fascinating opportunity to see an artist who has spent the last 50 years perfecting and experimenting on a skill/craft/art that he loves. Even on a grey day, Chihuly‘s glass sculptures still looked magnificent, and it was hard not to be gobsmacked by the intricate craftsmanship and dazzling colours.

Besides the outdoor sculptures, the indoor ones looked marvelous too. The Temperate House Persians – a new artwork specially designed to be suspended inside the world’s largest and newly restored Victorian glasshouse could be admired from below and above. Meanwhile, some of his other works inside the glasshouse appeared to be camouflage e.g. ‘Fiori Verdi’ among the exotic plants, which was quite a pleasant surprise for the visitors.

Top: ‘Summer Sun’, 2010; 2nd row: ‘Opal and Amber Towers’, 2018; 3rd row: ‘Lime Crystal Tower’, 2006; bottom row: Scarlette and Yellow icicle tower, 2013

One of the most conspicuous outdoor sculptures at the exhibition was ‘Summer Sun’, a bold piece consisted of 1,483 separate elements. Yet the most complex one is ‘Scarlette and Yellow icicle tower’, which has 1,882 separate elements.

Out of all the installations at the gardens, my personal favourites were the ‘Niijima Floats’ and ‘Ethereal White Persian Pond’ inside the Waterlily House. Named after a volcanic island in Tokyo Bay, the ‘Niijima Floats’ installation at the Japanese rock garden was made up of brightly coloured glass spheres in various sizes, some of which weigh up to 60 pounds (27 kg). A series introduced by Chihuly in 1991, the colourful spheres looked unexpectantly harmonious with its surroundings; I especially liked the Chinese pagoda backdrop. I felt a sense of tranquility and balance looking at this installation, and it was unfathomable by intellect – you could only feel it, which probably made it more powerful.

‘Niijima Floats’, 2019

‘Ethereal white persian pond’ inside the Waterlily house was another breathtaking installation. As soon as I entered the glasshouse, my eyes were captivated by the extraordinary white and translucent striped glass flowers supported and rimmed with steel standing on the surface of the pond. Again, I felt that the glass flowers belonged there, in the pond with the water lilies and lotus leaves. The reflection of the glass sculptures on the water created a dreamlike/surreal effect, which made me believe that these flowers are part of nature and that there is no difference between the sculptures and nature.

Chihuly has said that he wants his work “to appear like it came from nature, so that if someone found it on a beach or in the forest, they might think it belonged there.” And I believe that he has certainly achieved this.

‘Ethereal white persian pond’, 2018

The last location I visited was the Shirley Sherwood Gallery of Botanical Art, where visitors could see his sketches, drawings, smaller glass sculptures and a film detailing Chihuly’s creative process. It was interesting to see many artisans working alongside with Chihuly in the production process, hence the collaborative efforts are essential for his final pieces.

Although I have visited Kew Gardens almost annually (usually with a friend who lives locally) for the last few years, I have never been able to cover the entire area. There is always something new to discover here, and on this visit, I spent almost an hour inside the Princess of Wales Conservatory examing the carnivorous plants in a maze-like glasshouse.

Although Kew is popular with visitors all year round, I personally love coming here in autumn. I enjoy hearing the rustling sounds of autumn leaves being blown in the wind, and the crunching sounds produced when my shoes made contact with the leaves. Perhaps it is due to global warming, but I feel that autumns here have become shorter, and if this is the case, then we need to cherish this season before it vanishes altogether – which will be almost unthinkable but not impossible. Watching the autumn leaves fall onto the ground is a reminder of our fleeting lives, although it comes with a sense of melancholy, there is also much beauty in it. I think nature is our best teacher, and maybe this is the reason why I will always want to return to Kew in autumn.