CONTINENTAL DRIFT

CONTINENTAL DRIFT 

50 years of jazz from Europe 

July 2016 - Conference Proceedings 

Edited by: 

Haftor Medbøe 

Edinburgh Napier University 

Zack Moir 

Edinburgh Napier University, and The University of the Highlands and Islands 

Chris Atton 

Edinburgh Napier University

Copyright retained by individual authors. c○2017 

Published by Continental Drift Publishing 

Edinburgh Napier University 

Edinburgh 

United Kingdom 

ISBN: 978-1-78808-706-3

CONTENTS 

Introduction 

Haftor Medbøe 

v 

1 ‘Young German Jazz’ and the Politics of Jazz Cosmopolitanism in 

Germany 1 

William Bares 

2 The Role of the Festival Producer in the Development of Jazz in 

Europe 17 

Emma Webster 

3 Cultural Factories and the Contemporary Production Line 31 

Petter Frost Fadnes 

4 Sampling the Past: The Role and Function of Vintage Music within 

Electro Swing 47 

Chris Inglis 

5 50 Years of Academic Jazz in Central Europe: Musicological and 

artistic research perspectives in a case study of local jazz history in 

Graz 57 

Michael Kahr 

iii

iv 

CONTENTS 

6 Vocal Jazz Accent: some of my best friends are American 67 

Renée Stefanie 

7 ‘Out of Nowhere?’: Pre-war Jazz Networks and The Making of Postwar 

Belgian Jazz 85 

Matthias Heyman

INTRODUCTION 

HAFTOR MEDBØE 

Following popular exposure in France to the proto-jazz of James Reese Europe and his 

369th “Harlem Hellfighters” Infantry Regiment during the latter years of WW1, the jazz 

bug took hold and, in the period that followed, spread throughout Europe. This new music 

from the USA, drawing on the ethno-cultural melting pot of New Orleans, provided 

a soundtrack to the new order that was forged following the two world wars. Its spread 

marked the beginning of Europe’s complex relationship to jazz, a music associated variously 

with exoticism, vice, youth, cultural decay, liberation, US imperialism, civil rights, 

nuclear disarmament, and intellectual elitism. 

During the past century, the cultural status of jazz has gone from popular to specialist, 

from entertainment to art, and in Europe, from an imported to an appropriated and repurposed 

music form. The initial eagerness by European musicians to emulate the American 

founding fathers of jazz has over time given way to national and regional reinterpretations 

of the genre. Examples of emergent European sensibilities in jazz creation and performance 

can be heard in the German free scene of the 1960s, and the “Nordic tone” associated 

with the ECM label in the 1970s. These departures from the genre’s American 

narrative, traditionally so intrinsically intertwined in its understanding, have necessitated 

the revisiting of the ontology of jazz in its post-globalisation context. 

Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe took place in Edinburgh, Scotland on 

the 16th and 17th of July, 2016. A co-production between Edinburgh Napier University 

and the Edinburgh Jazz & Blues Festival, the conference was conceived to reflect the festival’s 

theme, a celebration of fifty years of European jazz. The notion of European jazz as 

divergently distinct from the genre’s American conception constituted the basis for investigation 

through a series of panel sessions. 

v

vi 

INTRODUCTION 

The conference welcomed eminent panellists and presenters from across Europe and 

the United States drawn from academia, creative practice, and industry to interrogate and 

unpack the origin story, development, and emerging practices of jazz from Europe. The 

proceedings opened with ECM recording artist Marcin Wasilewski in interview with Haftor 

Medbøe as an introduction to the four themed panel sessions respectively titled “People 

and Histories”, “Places and Events”, Scenes and Networks”, and “Futures”. The chaired 

sessions probed themes of provenance, authenticity, hybridity, and innovation as applied to 

Europe’s contribution to the global jazz scene. Video and podcast legacies of these panel 

sessions are available from the conference website: www.continentaldriftconference.co.uk 

On each day the conference gave the floor to contributors on a variety of specialist topics. 

These took the form of 20X20 slide presentations and provided the basis for lively 

audience discussions. The conference organisers subsequently invited contributors to expand 

on their presentations, and the resulting papers are collated in this publication.

1 

‘YOUNG GERMAN JAZZ’ AND THE 

POLITICS OF JAZZ COSMOPOLITANISM 

IN GERMANY 

William Bares 

This paper concerns my work in the evolving young German jazz community — a group 

that was the focus of my ethnomusicological inquiry during my years of concentrated fieldwork/participant 

observation in Germany from 2005-2008. Labeled “Young German Jazz” 

or “The Next Generation” by the German record industry (marketing categories devised 

by ACT and JazzThing/Double Moon records, respectively), this community of German 

jazz musicians (roughly, aged 18-40) is marked less by aesthetic than by generational cohesion. 

1 As ACT’s young German guitar phenomenon Torsten Goods explained to me 

in 2006, “Young German Jazz” was “less about a style of music, it’s about a group of 

people... what this German generation is doing in our mid-20s to mid-30s.” The “Young 

German Jazz” generation (YGJ, as I shall hereafter refer to it) was born into Cold War 

culture and grew up in an optimistic spirit of integration that followed after the fall of the 

Berlin Wall. As members of Europe’s Generation “E” (an affectionate or derisive term designating 

the cooperative-competitive European generation that matured under the sign of 

the “Euro”), YGJ musicians understand that they have vital roles to play in reformulating 

Germanness in an era of intensified and competitive European identity politics. As befits 

this exciting and unfinished project, the ever-renewing and cosmopolitan city of Berlin has 

figured prominently in this group’s self-conception. 

1 For more info see WDR 3’s account of the recent Jazz Prize awarded to ACT for this series: 

https://web.archive.org/web/20131110225715/http://www.wdr3.de/musik/jazzbeiwdr3/jazzpreis116.html 

Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe. 

Continental Drift Publishing - Copyright Retained by Individual Authors c○ 2017 

1

2 ‘YOUNG GERMAN JAZZ’ AND THE POLITICS OF JAZZ COSMOPOLITANISM IN GERMANY 

In an forthcoming book I argue that German jazz “discourse”––consisting of, among 

other things, journalistic and scholarly texts, live and recorded performances and interviews, 

record, radio and television industry activities, and collusions between performance 

venues, musicians’ organizations, and governmental as well as private institutions––responds 

not only to a set of German domestic political concerns but also to the contemporary European 

Jazz “Culture Wars.” The concerns articulated at JazzAhead in Bremen each spring 

serve as reminders of the close relationships between German jazz discourse and broader 

commercial, national and international pressures. One net effect of this accelerated intra- 

European jazz commerce has been a marginalization of African American jazz perspectives, 

both aesthetically and actually, within Germany. Note, for, example, that in the first 

five years of JazzAhead in Bremen, Maceo Parker and Wallace Roney were the only two 

African American acts invited to perform. These were interesting choices; in the context 

of JazzAhead, the choice of Parker, the quintessential funk musician and masterful entertainer, 

effectively placed African American Americans on the periphery of jazz; Roney’s 

Miles Davis-influenced group, on the other hand, was there to showcase a more controversial 

African American claim to aesthetic centrality (and indeed this concert was not 

particularly well received). 

Events like JazzAhead inevitably draw YGJ musicians into the deeply politicized contemporary 

transatlantic debates over race, aesthetics and ownership in jazz (see Nicholson 

2005). Oversimplified, these debates pit hegemonic, homogeneous and cultural-imperial 

American jazz against counter-hegemonic, heterogeneous and culturally-cooperative European 

jazz. As the conventional wisdom has it, the Europeans currently possess more 

appreciative audiences, creative energy, generous support structures and (in the eyes of the 

many observers of the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq) moral authority. The Americans, on the 

other hand, now depend on a more fickle European market to supplement America’s anemic 

support for its own “national music”––a music which, in the eyes of many, has grown 

as stale and predictable as the American political economy. As much of my work was conducted 

during the presidency of George W. Bush, no image better captures the contentious 

spirit of the new millennium’s transatlantic relations than figure 1.1. 

Figure 1.1 Photo by author: Jan 2006

The photo was taken in a men’s bathroom stall (i.e. lavatory cubicle) at the B-Flat, a 

jazz club in Berlin Mitte. The club is one of the city’s most popular meeting places for jazz 

musicians of all persuasions, and remains a veritable laboratory for transatlantic jazz politics––especially 

on Wednesday nights, when it fills to capacity with students, older jazz aficionados 

and local and international jazz musicians who all come for the free-wheeling jam 

session run by Canadian expatriate bassist and longtime Berlin resident Robin Draganic. 

Responding to an anti-American rant that sparked a veritable wall’s worth of conversation 

that unfolded in weekly installments, the “weary American traveler” wrote: “Greetings 

Berliners, it’s okay to criticize America, but please be nice to Americans, we’re not as fat 

and stupid as you may think. We did, after all, give the world jazz! Rockin’ in the free 

world.” The composer of the subsequent thread wrote, “From Africa. Say thanks 2 Berliners 

and fuck you Americans, arrogant fuckers of the world.” Articulating the quintessential 

American cultural-diplomatic position, the “weary traveller” linked jazz freedom to 

America’s historic role in promoting liberal democracy in Western Europe. Unimpressed, 

the Berliner, writing from his own home turf, trashed the American’s ideas that America 

“gave” the world jazz, and that jazz musicians still inhabit a world in which the imperialist 

defenders of the so-called “free world” would be accorded any special hospitality in pacifistic 

Berlin. Indeed he went to extremes to deny jazz any American provenance––even 

African American provenance––by claiming (quite erroneously) that jazz originated in 

Africa, while suggesting that Americans owe Berliners a favor for having been at all receptive 

to American jazz over the years. 

While the photo is notable for the acrimonious transatlantic debate it illustrates, it is 

perhaps equally notable for what it leaves out. Absent from the covert shouting match is 

any productive reckoning whatsoever of the contemporary relevance of African Americans 

and African American musical aesthetics to the jazz idiom––on either the American or 

the German side of the debate. While African American musicians continue to struggle 

for both financial and artistic recognition within the United States (c.f., the largely ignored 

and incalculable loss of jazz’s “human” archive in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina), they 

now endure a similar process of cultural erasure in Europe, as their music comes increasingly 

to be identified with American unilateralism, rather than with the uniquely inclusive, 

Afromodernist subalternity that once enjoyed a near-universal appeal throughout much of 

the Cold War. If anti-Americanism in European jazz would appear to affect Americans indiscriminately, 

European processes of disengagement with America’s historical jazz narratives 

end up affecting African Americans disproportionately by burying their aesthetically 

central contributions under separate-but-equal European ideologies and institutions. 

My work has thus been primarily concerned with geopolitically-induced processes of 

African American cultural erasure in jazz in Europe. In my forthcoming book, I ask the 

question, how is it that jazz––once the very model of engaged musical and social nonconformity 

(an ethos emblematized perhaps above all in the popular slogan “Play Your 

Own Thing,” to play on the title of a popular film by Julian Benedikt)––has come to be 

hijacked, or perhaps overridden, in Europe, by politicized agendas that encourage a retreat 

into ready-made national musical identities? Under what circumstances, and precisely 

“how” has “Play your own thing” become “Play our thing” in European jazz? What are 

the political stakes––in a Europe that still struggles with the problem of integrating massive 

numbers of immigrants into relatively ethnically homogeneous countries–––involved 

in casting “our” thing as an “ethnic” and/or a “national” thing? 

In order to illustrate the relevance of these questions to the contemporary German context, 

I will scrutinizing two songs––”Blue Eyed Soul” (2002) by Till Brönner and “Blaue 

Augen” by Michael Schiefel and JazzIndeed (2005). Note that one of these was recorded 

3


before the U.S. invasion of Iraq; the other came after the invasion, and was in a sense 

a definitive moment for ACT’s overtly German-centric YGJ series. Taken together, the 

recordings indicate a seismic shift in the use the blue-eyed trope to construct German jazz 

identity. They also illustrate the problematics of the new roles adopted by commercial entities 

like ACT music, who have filled a void left by the lack of strong German governmental 

support for jazz, in promulgating ideas of Germanness for a domestic and international listenership. 

In order to present the differences between the two recordings more fully, I will suggest 

at the outset that these two albums align provocatively with two distinct historical discourses 

of “the German” in music, as identified by the German musicologist Bernd Sponheuer 

in a well-regarded English-language essay on German musical nationalism. The first 

type is the universalist, in which German music represents a confluence of cultures, and 

in which German musicians are portrayed as expert in filtering the flood of information 

pouring in from all over Europe and indeed the world. As opposed to the “marked” quality 

of, French or Italian vocal musics, for example, German music––emblematized above all 

by the non-linguistically bound ‘absolute music’ of Beethoven, subsumed these and alone 

among the world’s musics was deemed able to bring the “fully human” to its fullest expression. 

The second type identified by Sponheuer is the exclusivist discourse, which relies on 

a series of binary opposites to articulate difference through reference to the “specifically” 

German in music: e.g., German depth versus French or Italian superficiality––or, in the 

case of jazz, German non-swing versus African American swing, German experimentalism 

versus American predictability, German sober intellect versus American optimistic 

naiveté, etc (Sponheuer 2002). 

As a transatlantic observer of recent developments in the German jazz record industry, 

I found it particularly fascinating that ACT music’s YGJ series seems to play on both ideal 

types in order to distinguish Germanness in the field of jazz. A transposition of the universalist 

discourse can be found in the promotional material for Carsten Daerr and Daniel 

Erdmann’s Berlin Calling (2007), which describes their music as “open in every conceivable 

direction, it conveys the feeling that it could have originated from any other part of 

the world; and it is precisely this openness that expresses one of the decisive strengths of 

jazz from Berlin” (Daerr and Erdmann, 2007). On the other hand, the liner notes to ACT’s 

flagship album, Call it [em] (2005), draw upon the exclusivist discourse in describing the 

group’s music as “...unsmooth, freakish and free [...] nervous energy, hyperactive, hectic 

[...] A murky morbidity, just like in a flickering black and white film. Lola running, straight 

through the metropolis” (Wollny et al, 2005). 

Like Berlin Calling and Call it [em], Brönner’s Blue Eyed Soul and JazzIndeed’s Blaue 

Augen can also be seen as representatives of the universalist and exclusivist ideals respectively. 

However, the addition of the blue-eyed trope––which is to say the layering 

of German national musical identity with signifiers of German ethnicity––makes the latter 

two albums far more interesting from a transatlantic perspective. Here German national 

jazz identity becomes entwined with discourses of race and the explosive political issue 

of cultural erasure of African American musical contributions to jazz, which I have just 

described. Equally interesting are the differences between the two albums. If Brönner’s 

2002 production used the blue-eyed trope to signify perspectival similarity and competitive 

competence vis-a-vis African American music (while in an important sense also placing 

German music in direct competition with African American music), JazzIndeed’s 2005 

production used the blue-eyed trope to foreground a perspectival difference and a creative 

self-sufficiency vis-a-vis African American music. Here, African American musical signifiers 

are marshaled––somewhat paradoxically––to reinforce ideas of YGJ’s generational,

5 

ethnic and national distinctiveness. African American music is used, in other words, to 

facilitate a problematic solipsism of non-competition and non-comparison. I will conclude 

my comparison by suggesting that precisely “who” is left out of the latter conception is 

a concern not just for African Americans but for plenty of other jazz musicians on the 

German scene. 

Till Brönner’s Blue Eyed Soul 

In an interview for Julian Benedikt’s film Play Your Own Thing (2006), Brönner noted: 

Quite early on, I was confronted with not only the Americans’ opinion that Germans 

couldn’t be trusted to play authentically. Some people don’t care, and say, ‘So what. I’ll 

go to New York. Who cares?’ What are my own roots, then? While I was grappling 

with this question I discovered my real German roots. And at some point I asked myself: 

‘Must I be black and American to be allowed to play jazz? Or is jazz by now a language, 

a vehicle, a vocabulary which is accessible for everyone and which we should just use to 

orient ourselves in the direction we actually come from?’ (Benedikt 2006). 

Noteworthy here is the way Brönner uses the notion of jazz as self-discovery to advance 

a more focused conception of jazz as enabling the discovery of a self that comes from 

“somewhere”––a move that seemingly enfolds American jazz individualism into Europe’s 

jazz nationalism. 

What is odd about the statement, however, is that Brönner’s playing evinces very little, 

stylistically, that would mark it as “German,” save, perhaps its cosmopolitan fluency in the 

world’s popular music styles, particularly African American ones. This influence is evident 

on Brönner’s early German Songs––one of the first of the post-Cold War jazz records 

to riff on German popular musical history, though with an international rhythm section and 

a jazz conception that was quite clearly indebted to Wynton Marsalis’s Standard Time. It 

may further be said that Brönner has refined the art not only of musical but also social emulation; 

Brönner fashioned his early career after Marsalis’s and quickly become something 

of a symbol of upward mobility and jazz respectability in Germany. An image-conscious 

musician who enjoys fine wines, stylish clothes, and a reputation for dating German supermodels, 

Brönner sits virtually alone atop the German jazz world, enjoying the highest 

fees, the largest audiences, the best sidemen, and gigs in Germany. 2 

Brönner’s role models are hardly limited to Marsalis, however. After his move from the 

local German label Minor Music to the internationally-oriented Verve/Universal, Brönner 

released an album entitled Chattin’ with Chet (2000)––a tribute to Chet Baker, the white 

trumpeter who by age twenty-three had been branded jazz’s “great white hope”––a moniker 

Baker resisted throughout his career, but which nevertheless served as an indicator of the 

white critical establishment’s interest in portraying jazz as a musical arena in which whites 

could hold their own against blacks. Indeed the arena metaphor is apt since the term “great 

white hope” originated in the search for a white competitor who might be able to take 

down African American heavyweight boxing champion Jack Johnson in the early twentieth 

2 Like Marsalis, he has also cultivated a “downhome” aspect to his jazz persona: he finds time to mentor younger 

musicians, writes album liner notes for up-and-comers, and is a regular at the Saturday jam sessions at Berlin’s 

A-Trane. According to Brönner’s brother Pino, one night at the A-Trane, both Brönner and Marsalis were present 

for the jam session (local legend has it that Brönner more than held his own against the American icon). After 

the session, Marsalis, who apparently warmed to the younger Brönner during the course of the evening, took the 

German trumpeter aside and confided that he thought the rifts between Europe and American jazz scenes were 

overblown. For critiques of such respectability-building, see Engels (2003) and Biswurm (2009).


century. As the Nation’s Adam Schatz writes, “The search for the great white hope is as 

much a tradition in jazz as it is in boxing.” 3 

In contrast to Baker’s muted but well-crafted rendition of the lyric to Matt Dennis’s 

wistful ballad, “Everything Happens to Me,” from the iconic album, Chet Baker in Paris, 

Brönner’s rendition of the same standard on Chatting with Chet layers clear affinities for 

the American great white hope with musical signifiers of the African Americanness and 

the African diaspora. Note here the reharmonization, the funky bass line, the drum and 

bass texture, the bossa-cross rhythm, the amplified vocal effects, and, of course, iconographically, 

the embrace of the dark skinned woman, in the cover-art photography, who is 

there, presumably, to temper the white on white dialogue. 

What interests me is the way Brönner’s career has transplanted the old American great 

white hope trope to the transatlantic context, while alloying it with both African American 

musical and German national identity. For what was “German” about Brönner’s music 

at the time was precisely its suspension in larger nationalist discourses that sought competitors 

worthy of standing toe-to-toe with the “best” American, European, and African 

American jazz musicians. Torsten Goods illuminated the ways this competitively racialized 

discourse is linked to a German resentment over a lack of native role models in the 

jazz idiom. Speaking of his own difficulties learning to play jazz in his hometown of Erlangen, 

Bavaria, Goods compared his experiences of neglect in school and in local clubs 

with the positive reception of the African American and mixed African peers with whom 

he was acquainted: “you know ... most of those African American kids—really mixed kids 

by now—they’re more idolized. Thanks to the hip hop culture they’re the cool ones, so it’s 

really like the opposite of discrimination.” Goods soon shifted into a basketball metaphor 

to explain the ways an internationally-recognized German “great white hope” could help 

to legitimate his own jazz ambitions in Germany. 

Also with the basketball culture and that thing being cool, especially with [the German] 

Dirk Nowitski, who is now one of the best players in the NBA, you know. A lot of kids 

grow up with him as a role model because he helps them see it’s possible, which you can’t 

really say with jazz because no German jazz artist has made it that big. [...] It’s sad, you 

know, because you had Nils Henning [Orsted Pederson], you had Jan Garbarek, Miroslav 

Vitous, Michel Petrucciani, they played with everybody, but Till Brönner, you know, he’s 

famous in Germany but we don’t have a Dirk Nowitski yet (Goods, 2006). 

Note here that Goods’s statement speaks to a certain ‘generational amnesia’ that I observed 

throughout my time spent with young jazz musicians Germany. It is not as if the 

younger musicians have never heard of internationally known German artists like Albert 

Mangelsdorff, it is, rather, that for Goods’s generation, Mangelsdorff’s music represents 

an older praxis of the Burgershrecks (enfants terribles) rather than the newer music of the 

Bildungsbürgertum (middle class intellectuals). This new emphasis on respectability and 

nation-building in German jazz, as it turns out, is among the primary motivations of the 

members of the new jazz Generation, who sense that the new zeitgeist might allow more 

forceful articulations of German pride than would have been conceivable in Mangelsdorff’s 

heyday. Note, for example, the provocative photo that graced the May, 2006 issue of JazzThing, 

taken at the height of World Cup mania in Germany and a high-water mark of 

recent national pride. 

3 C.f. 1910’s “fight of the century” which saw undefeated white champion James Jeffries come out of retirement 

for the sole purpose of “proving that a white man is better than a Negro.” Johnson’s victory over Jeffries triggered 

race rioting all over the country (Schatz 2003).

7 

Figure 1.2 Album cover, Chattin’ with Chet (Verve-Universal, 2000) 

Figure 1.3 

2006) 

Christian Schmid’s photo of the 2006 German Jazz Team (Köchl, Engels and Bühler,


Figure 1.4 Brönner’s Blue Eyed Soul (Verve-Universal, 2002) 

This visible emphasis upon national pride among YGJ musicians is embodied somewhat 

differently in Till Brönner, whose strongest ambition at the time was to crack into 

the international market and demonstrate that an ethnic German can hold his own against 

African American, American, and also European jazz luminaries. As with many European 

artists, for Brönner, canonic American acceptance by African Americans remained 

the final jazz frontier. It seems clear that by the time of Brönner’s next release, Blue Eyed 

Soul (2002) (figure 1.4) his consciousness of his own transatlantic social positioning had 

developed even further. 

On this album, Brönner, who remains one of the hardest working and most disciplined 

of all the artists I surveyed in Europe, once again showcased his flair for African American 

groove-based music. If Brönner’s Chattin’ with Chet articulated musical and social affinities 

with the most notable white American jazz trumpeter after Bix Beiderbecke, Blue Eyed 

Soul articulated affinities with several architects of the self-reflexive African American musical 

genre known as neo-soul: Roy Hargrove, Common, and above all D’Angelo. As on 

the earlier albums, Brönner’s playing here is solidly idiomatic. More interesting, however, 

is the way the album seems to effect a quintessentially German musical synthesis. By 

demonstrating, musically, the compatibility of a blue-eyed, white German identity with 

African American soulful identity, Brönner proposed to bridge a persistent transatlantic 

musical-discursive divide. That is: if claiming a specifically “German” jazz identity on 

earlier albums like German Songs (1995) seemed merely to disguise a heavy reliance upon 

African American jazz styles, Blue Eyed Soul invited the audience to consider a different 

kind of German jazz, one whose emulation of and competition with African American music 

could be overt, and aimed not at white theft, per se, but at German respectability and

9 

nation-building, paradoxically, by bringing the issue of white theft (i.e., the contentious 

legacy of “blue eyed soul”) out into the open and proposing to resolve the conflict. 

JazzIndeed’s “Blaue Augen” 

On ACT music’s second “YGJ” release, Blaue Augen (2005), the quintet JazzIndeed reinterpreted 

the hit “Blaue Augen” (1980) from Ideal’s eponymous album Ideal––one of the 

most popular Neue Deutsche Welle records of the early 1980s. 4 Predominantly based in 

Berlin, the musicians of the NDW were credited with creating an “authentic” German pop 

style by returning to the German language that had been largely absent in rock productions 

of the 1950s and 1960s. In Ideal’s “Blaue Augen,” the music and lyrics project an image 

of the outwardly cool and disaffected but inwardly restless Berliner. 5 During the verses, 

singer Annette Humpe proclaims her skepticism towards consumerism and the products 

Berliners were fed by the West (figure 1.5): 

Humpe’s message is reinforced musically by the guitarist’s syncopated upbeats, the 

drummer’s punk stylings, and the relatively static harmony sustained throughout the verse 

(labeled “A”). However, during the refrain (labeled “B”), the tone of the song changes. 

Power chords replace guitar syncopation, and a more harmonically active bass progression 

conveys a sense of forward momentum as Humpe becomes transfixed by a love object 

whose “phenomenal,” “unbelievable” blue eyes drive her to fits of sentimentality. Just as 

things are getting interesting, the tag (labeled “C”) cuts Humpe’s rhapsodizing short with 

dissonant chords on the piano and warnings from the members of her band, who admonish 

her that “it is dangerous, perilous, too much feeling.” 

Several of my young German interview subjects who grew up listening to this song 

consider it first and foremost a representative example of the detached and ironic aesthetic 

of the NDW movement. It would not be a stretch, however, to say that the thematization 

of “blue eyes” also encodes deeper conflicts Berliners felt at that time about their relationships 

to German national and ethnic identities (according to one recent statistic, roughly 

seventy-five percent of the people in Germany have blue eyes). The “A” sections would 

have resonated with many older Berliners, whose well-placed attempts to reckon with Germany’s 

national socialist past had been dashed upon the rocks of Western consumerism. In 

song after song, politically-minded members of the NDW gave voice to the new German 

ennui. On the other hand, “Blaue Augen” derives much of its punch from the alternating 

musical sections juxtaposing this sense of boredom with expressions of genuine longing (in 

the “B” sections). Here the blue eyes become the object of desire, and stand in for “feeling” 

itself (note that the blue eyes make Humpe feel not “romantic” but “sentimental”). As with 

Udo Jürgens’s hit, “Griechischer Wein,” or even Lynrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama” 

(which several of my German interviewees told me was a huge hit in Germany), “Blaue 

Augen” became popular in Germany by tapping into deep German desires for national and 

ethnic belonging while safely displacing them. Here the blue eyes are carefully smuggled 

into the song and then forsworn in the “C” sections, in full knowledge of the dangers that 

such longing presents What to make of JazzIndeed’s “Blaue Augen”? In speaking with 

both producer Siggi Loch and the members of the band (who had finally been given their 

shot to record for a big jazz label after having played together for years in Berlin) it was 

4 For more information on the NDW, see Alfred Hilsberg(1979). 

5 Description here references Ideal’s performance for German’s ZDF 2 (German TV 2) in 1981, available on 

YouTube at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V SrWhDZKIk (accessed July 2, 2009).


Figure 1.5 

sections. 

The German lyrics to Ideal’s \Blaue Augen," with English translation and labeled

11 

clear that they intended it to be a musical “statement” of sorts––not least, perhaps, because 

Humpe and Loch collaborated on a Berlin-based record label (“ACT Music + Vision”) in 

1988 before Loch dissolved the partnership to start the ACT jazz label. As Loch noted in 

the CD’s accompanying promotional material available on the ACT website: 

At any rate here come jazz musicians with their own roots, weaned on pop, and unafraid 

of ruffling some feathers or of being bruised. It‘s taken long enough in Germany to 

dare to do something that in jazz‘s homeland has always been self-explanatory. Even 

John Coltrane‘s most successful track came from the pop scene: a standard no less, ‘My 

Favorite Things.’ It IS allowed! 6 

It is interesting that Loch mentions “My Favorite Things,” for JazzIndeed draws upon 

the African American aesthetic tradition of “signifying” in order to transform nearly every 

aspect of the original, much as Coltrane did. 7 To do so, however, the band relies heavily 

upon its own fluency in American R&B and smooth jazz styles, which enables the members 

of JazzIndeed to iron out the inner conflict apparent in Ideal’s 1980 version while 

retaining a critical stance of their own. At the very beginning of JazzIndeed’s rendition, 

Schiefel announces his generation’s distance from Humpe’s by singing, in German, “Ideal 

leaves me totally cold.” Musically, one finds no trace of Ideal’s emotional hots and cools, as 

the group maintains a slow-jam groove throughout. The group further signifies by maintaining 

the same groove and feel in the transition from the verses to the choruses. The 

sustained groove effectively erases the incompatibility between Berliner cosmopolitanism 

(as indicated in the lyrics of the “A” sections), and the sentimental German national feeling 

reflected in the “B” sections. Tellingly, the tag in the “C” sections about “too much 

feeling” is left out entirely of JazzIndeed’s rendition and is replaced by an smooth sax 

solo, serving to reinforce the musical message that Schiefel’s younger jazz generation had 

indeed transcended an older Berliner inner conflict. 

The rendition thus projected a YGJ identity savvy enough to use global American styles 

to signify upon German popular musical history and yet brazen enough to claim a contemporary 

blue-eyed identity for itself. On “Blaue Augen,” JazzIndeed showed how the 

NDW’s important contributions to German popular culture could be appropriated piecemeal 

and incorporated into the postmodern musical monument YGJ seeks to build on the 

remains of an anxiety-ridden German past. As if there were a doubt as to whether this 

might be the correct interpretation, producer Siggi Loch sought to remove all ambiguity in 

the CD’s accompanying promotional material: 

The French and Scandinavians are already doing it with a clear conscience. It’s time 

for German jazz to come out of its intellectual corner. No quality need be lost when 

attempting to broaden the jazz tradition with your own experiences. ‘We play in German. 

The 80s. Our hits. In reality. . . . There are stories to tell. . . ’ Young German Jazz! We 

want more! We love listening to such blue eyes. Jazz? Indeed!” 8 

Conclusion 

As the eminent scholar of race Paul Gilroy has recently argued, “the peculiar synonymity 

of the terms European and white cannot continue. And yet, against a wealth of detailed 

6 From the ACT website: http://www.actmusic.com/pdf/9651 2 PFE Blaue Augen.pdf (accessed July 5, 2009). 

7 For a discussion of African American “signifying” and its relation to jazz (and “My Favorite Things” in particular, 

see Monson (1996: 103-122). 

8 From the ACT website: http://www.actmusic.com/pdf/9651 2 PFE Blaue Augen.pdf (accessed July 5, 2009).


historical and cultural evidence, all across Europe, identity, belonging––and consequently 

the imperiled integrity of national states––are being communicated through the language 

and symbols of absolute ethnicity and racialized difference” (Gilroy, 2004: xii). Postmodern 

aesthetics notwithstanding, today’s YGJ also serves as a vehicle for articulations 

of such racialized and nationalized difference. If the discourses of transatlantic jazz allow 

European jazz communities to defuse charges of European musical ethnocentricity 

by alloying their musical productions with tropes of jazz’s American cosmopolitanism or 

African American subalternity, I want to conclude by suggesting that celebrations of precisely 

these European aesthetic freedoms in jazz by ACT and other institutions be viewed 

as a kind of distraction or compensatory mechanism. 

Even a brief glance at the band photo for the CD cover should alert one to the problematics 

of harnessing jazz to ethnic identities in Germany; resonant jazz “signifying” in 

a national context can register dissonance within a transatlantic context, especially when 

age-old stereotypes begin to recirculate (see figure 1.6). 

Figure 1.6 Photo used for cover of JazzIndeed’s Blaue Augen (2005). 

JazzIndeed’s clever reinterpretation of Ideal’s original demonstrates the compatibility 

of African American grooves and doubleness with the voicing of contemporary German 

political concerns (they can help to pull German jazz out of its “intellectual corner”). Yet, 

in light of the cultural erasure discussed at the beginning of this paper, the ends to which 

the unabashed “blue eyed” jazz identity are being put seem not simply of ethnic German 

concern. Keep in mind that the blue-eyed people who constitute the majority of Germans 

comprise an exclusive club, genetically and sociologically speaking (Weise 2009). A look 

at the roster of YGJ musicians as of 2008 revealed that most of the competent, brown-eyed

13 

Figure 1.7 Partial list of jazz musicians I played with in Berlin, by nation (and/or ethnicity) and 

gender, 2006-7. 

Asian, African, Latin American and African American jazz musicians playing in Berlin 

had been left out of Loch’s vision. Of the 13 albums and 39 jazz musicians to record 

for ACT’s Young German Jazz series by 2008, none of the musicians are non-white, and 

few are female. Non-ethnic German Europeans are not bandleaders. Pouring through my 

fieldnotes taken during my year of participant observation in Berlin’s jazz clubs, it struck 

me that the vision of YGJ portrayed by record labels like ACT did not at all reflect the 

multiethnic, multinational character of Berlin’s young jazz scene. In addition to ethnic 

Germans, Americans and African Americans, those listed in figure 1.7 were also present 

on the scene.: 

Comparing the band photo with this diverse list should prompt us to consider whether 

European jazz nationalism and its champions not just in Germany but elsewhere restrict the 

scope of jazz by pressing it into the service of exclusive agendas that favor not individual 

competitive excellence and engagement with brown-eyed music, a la Brönner’s Blue Eyed 

Soul, but collective identity and engagement with more parochial ethnic and more narrowly 

national concerns, a la Blaue Augen. Germany is of course by no means unique among the 

European countries that have turned jazz to ethnocentric ends, but historical complexity 

of German nationalism and Germany’s relatively late entry into the competitive European 

jazz culture wars make it, at the very least, a potentially explosive case. The photo, promotional 

material, and German themed-music on Blaue Augen use the exclusivist discourse 

not simply to position Germans as “different” among European musical cultures; they also 

serve notice to American jazz communities that segments of the German jazz scene define 

themselves largely in opposition to brown-eyed jazz identities while––and this is the crucial 

point that seems to be lost in today’s transatlantic jazz world––borrowing from African 

American music to do so. No longer comfortable conforming to myopic American ideas of 

jazz “excellence,” many German musicians are now encouraged to size up jazz with their 

own keen blue eyes. The real question, it seems to me, is whether the German jazz indus-


try––and the young musicians who are becoming increasingly dependent upon it––will be 

interested in interrogating the idea that these blue eyes might themselves be myopic. 

References 

Benedikt, Julian. 2006. Play Your Own Thing–Eine Geschichte Des Euroäischen Jazz. 

DVD. Alive Vertrieb & Marketing, 2006. 

Biswurm, Roland HH. 2009, “Frech siegt: One Sandra Weckert Fan Might Be Wrong.” 

Jazz Zeitung 2002/09, Seite 13. http://www.jazzzeitung.de/jazz/2002/09/portrait-weckert.shtml, 

accessed 16 Oct, 2016. 

Brönner, Till. 2000. Chattin’ with Chet. 157 534-1, Verve. 

Brönner, Till. 2002. Blue Eyed Soul, 016 879-2, Verve. 

Daerr, Carsten, and Daniel Erdmann. 2007. Berlin Calling, Berlin, Apr. 11-13 and Jul. 3, 

2006, ACT CD 9656-2. http://www.actmusic.com/product info.php?products id=225&show=2, 

accessed 20, June 2009. 

Engels, Josef. 2003. “Roundtable.” Jazz Thing 49 (2003), p. 70. 

Goods, Torsten. 2006. Interview with author, Berlin, December 2006. 

Gilroy, Paul. 2004. “Forward,” in Blackening Europe: The African American Presence, 

Heike Rafael-Hernandez, ed., (New York: Routledge, 2004), p. xii. 

Hilsberg, Alfred. 1979. “Neue Deutsche Welle—Aus grauer Städte Mauern.” Sounds. 

http://www.highdive.de/over/sounds3.htm, accessed 30 Sept, 2016. 

Ideal. 1980. “Blaue Augen,” Ideal, Germany, Innovative Records, KS 80 004. 

JazzIndeed with Michael Schiefel. 2005. “Blaue Augen,” Blaue Augen. ACT 9651-2. 

Köchl, Reinhard, Josef Engels, and Götz Bühler. 2006. “German Jazz Team 2006,” Jazz 

Thing, no. 64, (2006), pp. 36-43. 

Monson, Ingrid. 1996. Saying Something, (University of Chicago Press, 1996). 

Schatz, Adam. 2003. “Fight Club,” The Nation, May 22, 2003. 

WDR 3. 2013. “WDR Jazzpreis 2014–Die PreisträgerInnen stehen fest!” Jazz in NRW, 11 

July, 2013.https://web.archive.org/web/20131110225715/http://www.wdr3.de/musik/ 

jazzbeiwdr3/jazzpreis116.html. Accessed Oct 14, 2016.

15 

Weise, Elizabeth. 2008. “More than meets the blue eye: You may be related.” USA Today, 

Feb 8, 2008. http://www.azcentral.com/ent/pop/articles/0206blueeyes0206.html (accessed 

July 5, 2009). 

Wollny, Michael, Eva Kruse and Eric Schafer. 2005. Call it [em], Gothenburg, Sweden, 

Feb. 9-10, 2004, CD ACT 2650-2. 

Suggested Citation 

Bares, W. (2017) ‘Young German Jazz’ and the Politics of Jazz Cosmopolitanism in Germany, 

in Medbøe, H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz 

from Europe, Edinburgh, Continental Drift Publishing, 1–15 

Contributor Details 

Pianist / scholar William Bares received his Ph.D in ethnomusicology in 2009 from Harvard 

University under the mentorship of Ingrid Monson, the Quincy Jones Professor of 

African American Music. He spent much of the past decade researching European jazz and 

playing professionally on the European scene. He has published articles on transatlantic 

jazz in Jazzforschung, Jazz Research Journal, American Music, and the Grove Dictionary 

of American Music, among others. He taught at Harvard University, Brown University, 

Berklee College of Music and the New England Conservatory before taking a job as assistant 

professor of music and director of jazz studies at the University of North Carolina, 

Asheville, in 2011. Bares is active in Asheville’s thriving musical community as an educator, 

musician and promoter. He was the solo pianist in the Blue Ridge Orchestra’s debut 

of Rhapsody in Blue, and serves as curator of the Sunday Jazz Showcase at Asheville’s 

famed Isis Music Hall. He was also coordinator of Ecomusicologies 2014: Dialogues—an 

international meeting of scholars and musicians that took place in Asheville in October of 

2014. His book, Eternal Triangle: American Jazz in European Postmodern, is forthcoming.

2 

THE ROLE OF THE FESTIVAL PRODUCER 

IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF JAZZ IN 

EUROPE 

Emma Webster 

Introduction 

According to Steve Rubie, owner of London’s 606 Club, trying to show the development 

of jazz sonically is impossible because ‘it would be like trying to define a colour’. In 

thinking about jazz in Europe, then, this paper will instead show some of the ways that 

jazz festivals have contributed towards its development, based on a case study of the EFG 

London Jazz Festival. Drawing on archival material and interviews with EFG London Jazz 

Festival staff, musicians and audiences, this paper forms part of the Impact of Festivals 

project with Professor George McKay at the University of East Anglia, in collaboration 

with the EFG London Jazz Festival, funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council. 

For more information, see https://impactoffestivals.wordpress.com. 

The first international jazz festival took place in Nice in 1948 and featured traditional 

jazz, swing, and bop. It was organised by the French Government and Hugues Panassié and 

his Hot Club de France and was headlined by Louis Armstrong and his All Stars (Lyttelton 

2008: 152). Across the Atlantic, the first Newport Jazz and Folk Festival was held in 

1954 (Miles Davis debuted in 1955) and the first Monterey Jazz Festival was held in 1958, 

although, as Martinelli suggests (2016), ’The concept of jazz festivals is more a European 

invention than an American one’. Often credited as the first recognised jazz festival in 

Britain was Beaulieu in 1956, and then came the National Jazz Festivals which began 



17

18 THE ROLE OF THE FESTIVAL PRODUCER IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF JAZZ IN EUROPE 

in 1961 after Beaulieu had descended into violence between trad and modern jazz fans 

(cf McKay 2004). However, as Hobsbawm suggests, writing in 1959, from the musician’s 

point of view, jazz festivals such as Newport, Nice, Cannes and San Remo were ‘spiritually 

rather than financially satisfactory, like the occasional recitals in the temples of official 

music [like London’s Royal Festival Hall] . . . They are a sort of cultural recognition of 

jazz, but too infrequent to count much’ (Hobsbawm 1959: 184). 

Fast forward to 2016, and festivals now form an essential part of the jazz world, providing 

pivot points around which artists and audiences’ years are planned. In Britain, for 

example, according to Tackley and Martin ‘there are few weekends throughout the year on 

which there is not a jazz festival somewhere’ (2013: 22). As a literature review in 2016 

into the impact of jazz festivals found (Webster and McKay 2015), there has also been 

an increase in academic interest in festivals over the past few decades, with the range of 

interdisciplinary interest ranging from event management and urban studies, to social psychology 

and tourism studies. There is, however, little research as yet about the creative 

role of the jazz festival producer and, more broadly, the impact of jazz festivals. However, 

as Jordan argues (2016: 11), ‘Festivalisation is changing and reshaping the cultural 

market place, audience expectations and production processes’ therefore more research is 

required. 

Keogh’s work on the function of Australian jazz festivals is one exception to this gap 

in the literature. He argues that festival producers are cultural intermediaries with ‘gatekeeping 

functions of co-producers, tastemakers and selectors’ (2014: 184). Based on analysis 

of programmes of five festivals, Keogh’s data yields interesting comparisons across 

festivals on issues of artists’ geographical origins, gender, and crossover with world music, 

but the quantitative approach gives little nuance as to the development of jazz itself and it 

is difficult to tease out how or why producers fulfil their creative role. Highlighting how 

jazz festival producers walk a fine line between innovation and continuity in their efforts to 

both maintain existing audiences and develop new ones, Medbøe examines the interdependencies 

and frictions between the creators and the promoters of jazz in Edinburgh (2014: 

8). In what Keogh defines as the festival producer’s ‘search and selection’ function, as 

Medbøe points out, in choosing which music is presented to the public and which isn’t, the 

subsequent exclusion of musicians can either ‘galvanise or erode a musician’s motivations, 

stimulating a creative rethink, the adoption or establishment of alternative performance 

platforms or, at worst, despondency’ (ibid: 9). In this way, then, promoters can impact directly 

on musicians’ future directions and festival producers’ programming decisions can 

thus shape the field of cultural production. 1 

Furthermore, in their role as cultural investors, importers and innovators, and through 

their decisions around venue and promotion, promoters can have a great deal of influence 

over the audience’s experience of live music (cf Webser 2011). As Cloonan argues, much 

of the success of live music is not to do with what the musicians do but instead it’s about 

environment and audiences: ‘It is here that the creativity work of that key cultural intermediary, 

the promoter, may come to the fore’ (unpublished). Advocating more research into 

the creative role of the promoter, and based on Marx’s idea that the ruling ideas at any time 

are those of the ruling class, Cloonan argues that promoters are the music industries’ new 

ruling class and that an understanding of their worldview is important to understand the 

sorts of ideas that are likely to underpin practices within the music industries (2012: 166- 

1 It is worth noting here that ‘promoter’ and ‘producer’ are sometimes used interchangeably. In this paper, promoter 

is defined as a talent buyer who has little creative input, whereas a producer is someone who takes a more 

creative role in programming beyond purely that of merely paying an artist and a venue.

19 

167). With this in mind, based on a case study of the EFG London Jazz Festival, this paper 

will suggest four interlinking ways in which festivals and festival producers have played 

a part in the development of jazz in Europe, namely by providing platforms to showcase 

work, bringing together artists to play together, developing audiences for jazz and new 

work, and creating a space for cultural diplomacy which then impacts on the jazz scene 

more broadly. 

Showcasing and exporting 

The first London Jazz Festival took place in 1993, a distillation of other London-based 

festivals which had come before; in particular, the Bracknell Jazz Festival and Camden 

Jazz Week. The EFG London Jazz Festival is produced by Serious, a producer of live 

jazz, international and contemporary music, and the title sponsor is currently private Swiss 

bank, EFG International. The introduction to the first London Jazz Festival guide contains 

a mission statement of sorts:- 

May 1993 heralds the start of something new and exciting for the London jazz scene. 

After too many years without a jazz festival of the scale provided by other European cities, 

London will at last reflect the important cultural contributions made by its own committed 

and creative musicians, in 10 days of eclectic jazz-related activity from around the world 

. . . Involving more international jazz stars and top venues than ever before, it is seen as a 

prototype of a festival that will spread right across London in years to come. 

As EFG London Jazz Festival director John Cumming explains, the aim was to draw 

in the grass roots of the UK/London scene on the one side, ‘which would then celebrate 

the fact that London was a year-round jazz city and provide a focal point’ and would 

also ‘be a focal point for bringing in high level international jazz into the city’. The first 

tool for development is when the Festival acts as a platform for local talent and creates a 

showcase for exporting musicians abroad (cf Washburne 2010: Payne and Jeanes 2010), 

particularly at so-called ‘field configuring events’ (Leenders, Go and Bhansing 2015: 758) 

– those which draw together key industry figures, like the London and North Sea jazz 

festivals. In 2014, for example, the British Council invited international festival producers 

to the London Jazz Festival from countries like Kenya, Turkey, and Ukraine to attend 

performances and networking receptions to broker new relationships with the UK jazz 

sector (British Council 2014). For emerging artists nowadays, performing in the EFG 

London Jazz Festival offers a certain status, a concrete means of signalling their prowess 

and experience to other venue and festival bookers. For saxophonist Camilla George, for 

instance: ‘It’s a good thing to tick off, “I’ve done the London Jazz Festival with my own 

project”; yeah, I think it is a big thing’. For Bex Burch, band leader of Vula Viel, who 

played the Festival’s opening night gig at Ronnie Scott’s in 2015:- 

That [festival] gig for us was really great ... Lots of people there were industry, lots of 

people were reviewers ... And we’re in talks with a couple of people who were there about 

festivals in the future ... so possible other gigs may come out of it as well. 

As well as showcasing local talent in order to export and develop international markets 

for their work (Cf Payne and Jeanes 2010), festivals can also be sites for showcasing international 

artists and introducing local audiences to new artists from overseas. To this 

end, an early strategy of the London Jazz Festival was to include national themes. The 

1996 Festival, for example, included the Jazz From Norway mini festival, 1997 was the 

turn of Austria – featuring the Vienna Arts Orchestra (VAO) in their 20th anniversary year


among others, and providing ‘a timely opportunity to revalue the hip heritage of Habsburgville’ 

(Johnson 1997) – and France in 1998. The main aim of Jazz From Norway was 

to introduce the extraordinary quality of Norwegian jazz to a British audience. Whilst most 

contemporary jazz followers would have been aware of Jan Garbarek, it had been a number 

of years since Terje Rypdal or Arild Andersen had played in London, and many other Norwegian 

players were unknown at that time, yet as the Jazz From Norway brochure points 

out, ‘these are some of Europe’s finest players, representative of a jazz scene that could 

have produced two or three different programmes of comparable class’. As it continues, 

‘Part of the role of an event like the London Jazz Festival is to reflect the changing face of 

the music’. 

Festival producers are necessarily both proactive and reactive to the changing face of 

the music. The American dominance of jazz, although still a major feature of the London 

Jazz Festival’s programming, was on the wane into the new millennium as young European 

musicians developed confidence in European jazz. As VAO’s Mathias Ruegg explained in 

1997, ‘Some very big influences are coming from Europe, especially from those musicians 

who mix jazz with classical or folk music. People like Jan Garbarek or Albert Mangelsdorff 

have created a special kind of language for European jazz. And Django Reinhardt? He was 

a genius’ (cited in Johnson 1997). When asked where the Austrian-ness of his music comes 

in, Ruegg replied, ‘Er, it doesn’t, or not very much. It’s just a fact. When we started we 

were Austrian, but now we are international, European’ (ibid.). 

Thematic programming 

The ‘Jazz From . . . ’ mini festivals discussed above illustrate another creative role of the 

festival producer in the development of jazz in Europe, namely via thematic programming; 

in the case of the Jazz From . . . series, the theme being music and musicians from a 

particular European country. This is highlighted by Jordan as one of a number of ways 

in which festival promoters have used the motifs of ‘festivalisation’ – the trend towards 

reconfiguring series of events into festivals – another being commissioning (Jordan 2015: 

3). As she says, ‘Themes serve as a spark to the artistic imagination and also convey layers 

of meaning’ (ibid: 7), which in the case of the London Jazz Festival, meant setting out its 

stall as a festival which, like Camden before it, reflected the new energy emerging from the 

UK and European scene alongside the African-American tradition of the music. 

Providing an example of thematic programming and also illustrating the EFG London 

Jazz Festival’s role in providing a platform for new collaboration and commissioning new 

work, the Jazz in the New Europe initiative in 2012 was a programme that, according to that 

year’s festival brochure, brought ‘seminal’ figures in the evolution of jazz in Europe over 

the past five decades together with emerging talent ‘in a series of new collaborations and 

commissions, club nights and panel sessions, extending throughout the city, and connecting 

with the UK’s vibrant jazz community’. The project was supported by a one-year grant 

from the Culture Programme of the European Union, and the spotlight was on Finland, 

France and Norway. One such collaboration was between Manchester’s Beats and Pieces, 

led by Ben Cottrell and Norway’s Ensemble Denada, led by Helge Sunde, as reviewed in 

The Quietus (Thomas 2012):- 

When Cottrell and Helge Sunde swap places to conduct each other’s ensemble with new 

compositions written by the composers, it’s clear that this is one project making the most 

of its European cultural funding.

21 

Commissions, ‘cultural dating’ and creative use of venues 

Another significant creative role for festivals and for festival producers in the development 

of jazz, then, is to commission new work and to programme in ways which bring together 

disparate artists, audiences, and venues. This example of what has been called ‘cultural 

dating’ has long been a feature of the London Jazz Festival and its predecessors. Writing 

about John Cumming’s programming of the Camden Jazz Week in 1990, for example, jazz 

critic Massarik (1990) suggests that:- 

The novelty of simply filling jazz festivals with big-name artists and their regular working 

groups seems to be wearing off. Instead we now find the ‘festival concept’ in which the 

producer/director aims to be as creative as the performers out front . . . It was [John 

Cumming’s] idea to present John Surman and Jack DeJohnette with the Balanescu string 

quartet and, after some painful moments, the experiment was successful’. 

Developing the ‘festival concept’ idea of international collaboration and forming part 

of the London Jazz Festival in 2002 was the six-hour Adventures in Sound gig, produced 

with long-time collaborators Somethin’ Else, and featuring Matthew Bourne, the Matthew 

Shipp Trio, Evan Parker and the improvised thrash metal electronica of the Scorch Trio 

from Norway. The gig started at 4pm and finished at 10pm, between which times no-one 

really knew what would happen. As London Jazz Festival director David Jones recalls:- 

I think it was a very good thing that it hadn’t been rehearsed, that it hadn’t been shaped. 

The audience really got into the drama of it; they could see musicians visibly responding 

to what was going on around them. It was almost like being able to take an audience into 

the inner workings of the idea. 

The gig was supported by the PRS Foundation as well as European partners Norway- 

UK, and the Europe Jazz Odyssey, the latter funded by a Culture 2000 grant from the 

European Commission. Europe Jazz Odyssey was the result of eleven members of Europe 

Jazz Network EJN joining together in a major artistic collaboration which enabled 

the partners to mount a three-year programme of innovative collaborations, residencies 

and workshops between musicians from throughout the continent, and a series of colloquia 

which explored the status of this key area of musical action, especially concentrating on 

its crucial role within the general cultural and educational contexts of today’s Europe (Europe 

Jazz Network 2016). In 2004, the Festival hosted a new international collaboration 

between pianist Matthew Bourne’s Distortion Trio with guitarist Chris Sharkey and drummer 

Dave Black, with special guests from France, saxophonist Christophe deBezanac and 

electronicist Christian Sebille as part of the Europe Jazz Odyssey project. 

Commissioning new work and presenting world premieres is often another feature of 

jazz festivals. In 2013, for example, the EFG London Jazz Festival commissioned 21 composers 

to write 21 new pieces to celebrate the Festival’s 21st birthday. Artists included 

Courtney Pine, Nik Bartsch, and Jason Yarde, the latter’s Bold As Brass featuring over 100 

amateur brass players of all ages and abilities. In 2014, the festival producer’s creative role 

can be seen again when Scottish folk electronica band Lau were programmed on the same 

bill together with three European artists from jazz and DJ backgrounds: Henrik Schwarz, 

Bugge Westletoft and Dan Berglund, the bass player with EST. As Cumming explains, the 

process behind the idea was collaborative, not ‘top down’ because where Festival collaborations 

come from is ‘more to do with creating a dialogue with musicians’ than a diktat 

from above. Serious had had a long relationship with many of the artists in the groups, and 

from a list of artists with whom Lau were interested in working, Serious threw back the 

names of Bugge and Henrik, and then threw Lau to Henrik. The result in this instance was,


as Cumming suggests, ‘a collaboration between two areas of music which don’t necessarily 

seem to work but actually did’. 

Another important creative role of festival producers is in matching artist to venue. As 

Jordan writes, unlike theatres and concert halls which are constrained by regular seasons of 

events, ‘festivals have the flexibility to explore new sites and create links between venues, 

places and communities in new and playful ways’ (2015: 11). For Manchester Jazz Festival 

artistic director, Steve Mead, for example, ‘I think festivals can adapt to a changing climate; 

they can work in partnership with venues and other cultural and non-cultural organisations. 

Whereas if you’re stuck with a venue, I think you are that: you are a venue and you’ve got 

to fill it all year with music and people and you’ve got what you’ve got’. As he continued, 

‘Programming is not just choosing a great band. It’s putting it somewhere at the right time 

in the right place. I’d like to think there’s an art to that. If it looks like it’s easy then I’ve 

done a good job’. 

The use of certain venues may also convey deeper layers of meaning. Writing much earlier 

but still pertinent, as trumpeter Humphrey Lyttelton wryly noted: ‘It is considered an 

extra feather in the cap of jazz if it can be presented in a hall normally reserved exclusively 

for serious music’ (Lyttelton 2008, 164). The great temple of classical music, London’s 

Wigmore Hall, a ‘little gem of civilisation’ with a ‘pin-perfect acoustic’ (Lebrecht 2010) 

was first used by the London Jazz Festival in 2004 for the Brad Mehldau trio from America, 

in 2005 for Norwegian Tord Gustavsen’s piano trio, while in 2006, Brits John Taylor 

and Gwilym Simcock both explored its peerless acoustics. In this way, the London Jazz 

Festival was putting on jazz in the very heart of the classical establishment in London. Indeed, 

this postmodern blurring of genre boundaries in recent times has been beneficial to 

jazz more broadly. In an article in July 2016 asking whether jazz is entering another golden 

age, The Guardian highlighted how there’s been an overall renaissance in press coverage 

in recent times, which it puts down partly to cross-genre collaborations from both the pop 

and classical worlds and partly to a ceasefire between the different jazz factions in the ‘jazz 

wars’ of old (Colter Walls 2016). 

Audience Development 

The third means by which jazz festivals have played a practical role in the development of 

jazz in Europe is via audience development, with festivals perceived as ‘key tools’ (Jazz 

Development Trust and Morris Hargreaves McIntyre 2001). One of the means by which 

they do this is by forming a focus for jazz activity and acting as an amplifier which attracts 

media attention. BBC Radio 3, for instance, has been a supporter of the London Jazz 

Festival from the start, and as Nod Knowles explains, although the station was traditionally 

a classical music station, as it has expanded its range of music styles, it now takes a large 

part of its live recorded output from jazz, folk, and world festivals (Knowles 2015: 209), 

to the point of becoming the main broadcasting partner of the London Jazz Festival, and 

indeed sponsoring the festival – or rather, being ‘in association with’ – between 2001 and 

2012. For the 606 Club’s Steve Rubie, the London Jazz Festival has ‘made a fantastic 

impact’ and has got jazz into the general media, breaking down people’s perceptions that 

they are ‘scared of jazz or thinking it is a minority thing’: 

It gives a sense that this is a London-wide thing and loads of people are going to it and 

it’s the sort of thing you should check out. And that is the biggest thing that the London 

Jazz Festival has done . . . In terms of promoting the music to the general public, I think 

it’s done that. I think it does a fantastic job.

23 

The impact of festivals is not only felt within the temporal and geographical location 

of their host city or town, however, as festivals continue to live on via new social connections, 

recordings and ensembles which are born out of them (Curtis 2010: 114). In 

2013, for example, Serious commissioned professional film-makers to create content by 

documenting a number of shows, on stage and behind-the-scenes. One such was the 21 

Commissions strand in the 2013 Festival, creating a concise ‘highlights’ video which was 

also used to promote the Festival, as well as engaging audiences who couldn’t personally 

attend the Festival, and creating its own radio channel and playlist, thus allowing the public 

to sample tracks from performers. The use of digital technology in this way combines 

two functions: marketing and audience engagement, allowing audiences to discover new 

music and artists to develop a new fanbase, as well as selling the Festival to a potentially 

global audience. By 2014, the Festival had 20,000 Facebook followers and 4,000+ on its 

YouTube channel, which they used daily to engage followers, thus expanding the virtual 

reach of the Festival beyond its ten-day temporal reality. By 2015, the EFG London Jazz 

Festival had partnered with BBC Music, BBC Radio Scotland, and Radio 1, 2, 3 and 6 Music, 

which meant that, alongside a dedicated temporary ‘pop up station’, the event could 

be ‘cross-trailed’ across radio and website platforms, leading one 2015 EFG London Jazz 

Festival-goer to remark that ‘it just did feel like it was everywhere this year’. 

Festival producers’ other activities 

Defining promoters as ‘cultural conduits’, Medbøe’s work also highlights how festival promoters 

are often engaged in jazz promotion more broadly. Jazz Scotland, for example, also 

presents the Aberdeen, Dundee, Fife, Islay and Lockerbie jazz festivals, as well as programming 

Edinburgh Jazz & Blues Festival (Medbøe 2013: 4). In Denmark, research 

in 2012 found that the Copenhagen Jazz Festival Foundation is also involved in the arrangement 

of a number of other concerts and festivals that feature Danish and international 

acts during the rest of the year, including the ‘Nordic network partnership’, the ‘Copenhagen 

Jazz Festival Experience’, ‘JazzVisits’ and ‘Jazz for Kids’, as well as collaborating 

with the world music trade fair and showcase, WOMEX (2009–2011), the Nordic network 

‘Nordjazz’, and the Movable Platform, a development project in Tanzania (Dvinge, 

Bruckner-Haring, and Kehl 2013: 106). 

Festivals and festival producers are important, then, because they act as nodes within national 

and international jazz networks, and as British saxophonist Andy Sheppard explains:- 

You have to get yourself, as a musician, into the European jazz family, the American jazz 

family, the worldwide jazz family, in order to survive and grow. But it’s so difficult to do 

that. You have to [get to know people in] each country, you have to really engage with 

people. And often it’s a long-term thing to work out. 

A festival producer like Serious’ John Cumming, who has been promoting jazz festivals 

since the 1970s, is therefore a key figure because he has been part of the ‘jazz family’ for 

such a long time and has built up a great deal of experience and contacts. 

Serious, the producer of the EFG London Jazz Festival, are year-round concert promoters, 

organising tours by jazz and ‘world music’ musicians around the UK. 2015 saw 

Serious’ continuing partnership with the Barbican as an Associate Producer, and confirmation 

of several of Serious’ multi-year regional partnership contracts, including music 

programme consultation for Gateshead Jazz Festival, the Bath Festival, and the Norfolk 

and Norwich Festival.


Cultural diplomacy 

One of the ways in which jazz develops behind the scenes is via networks like the Europe 

Jazz Network (EJN) and the International Jazz Festival Organisation. The final role 

of the festival producer is through their advocacy and cultural diplomacy work with such 

networks and their role in bringing in funding and sponsorship. With Serious as a founder 

member, the EJN was set up in 1987 as a network of promoters who connected with one another 

via new electronic communication methods, the intention being to share ideas about 

musicians and live promotion and to collaborate in organising tours and concerts. Members 

now use the network to drive European projects and develop collaborations, but the 

members also do important advocacy work for jazz, particularly in the current economic 

climate in which governments across Europe have been cutting arts spending (Europe Jazz 

Network 2010: 21). The EJN exists ‘to support the identity and diversity of jazz in Europe 

and broaden awareness of this vital area of music as a cultural and educational force’ 

(Europe Jazz Network 2016). Its manifesto, signed in 2004, states that European jazz functions 

as a ‘catalyst between different cultural heritages from local and migrant sources and 

between known and newly-discovered musical forms. Its openness and thirst for diversity 

is a permanent self-protection against any kind of nationalism’ (Europe Jazz Network 

2004). Perhaps reflecting this move away from nationalism and towards integration, it is 

also interesting to note that although the London Jazz Festival in the 1990s programmed 

nationally themed mini-festivals and seasons, by the 21st-century this concept has largely 

been dropped in favour of themes or the umbrella-ing of existing mini-festivals. On the 

one hand, the opening up of the European Union (EU) in 2004 to countries like Estonia, 

Poland, and Slovenia saw an increase in anti-immigration and anti-EU rhetoric across 

much of Europe, and no doubt played a part in Britain’s decision in 2016 to leave the EU 

(‘Brexit’). On the other, for Serious it also opened up further opportunities for importing 

and exporting jazz from an even wider range of countries. In 2009, for example, the London 

Jazz Festival was part of POLSKA! YEAR, a joint initiative by the Polish Ministry 

of Culture and National Heritage and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, coordinated by the 

Polish cultural exchange agency, the Adam Mickiewicz Institute. POLSKA! YEAR was 

comprised of over 200 projects ‘presenting the most interesting achievements of Polish 

culture to the UK audience’, from which the London Jazz Festival got £35,000 to do a 

programme of work with Polish artists. 

The building of relationships across Europe over the past 25 years has meant that the 

EFG London Jazz Festival now works within high-powered political circles and with global 

sponsors. In 2013, for example, the Festival worked with the German Federal Foreign Office, 

the Kingdom of the Netherlands, and the Norwegian Embassy to name but a few, and, 

as well as being supported by Arts Council England, the festival is sponsored by companies 

such as the Radisson hotel group, Eurostar, and private Swiss bank EFG International. 

Festivals, then, can act as focal points for state funding and corporate sponsorship from 

countries and companies keen to invest in culture as a vehicle for both export and for 

cultural diplomacy, albeit not always uncontroversially (cf Spicer 2013). On the other 

hand, festivals may be perceived as absorbing funding from other projects and organisations. 

Recognising that his own organisation’s receipt of the lion’s share of the London 

Arts Board’s jazz budget in 1993 was a ‘sore point’ with all the other potential recipients, 

for example, John Cumming was instead convinced that with its variety of programming 

that deals with the music’s roots, the impact of the festival would eventually help everyone 

(Fordham 1993). As well as high-powered European political relationships, the EFG London 

Jazz Festival works closely with the British All-Party Parliamentary Jazz Appreciation

25 

Group, a group for members of parliament interested in jazz, which hosts the Festival’s Jazz 

In The House launch party, attended by parliamentarians, journalists, jazz industry practitioners, 

and sponsors. As EFG London Jazz Festival director Claire Whitaker suggests, 

‘We had a greater attendance of MPs and politicians than anything else and yet it was jazz. 

It wasn’t a string quartet. I think again that sort of thing doesn’t just give us confidence as 

an organisation, it gives the scene confidence that it gets that kind of recognition’. 

Conclusion 

In these ways, the EFG London Jazz Festival – and jazz festivals more broadly – have 

acted as cultural investors (and exploiters), importers and innovators (cf Webster 2011), 

who have played a role in shaping the development of jazz in Europe. They have done 

so by providing platforms to showcase work, bringing together artists to play together, 

developing audiences for jazz and new work, and creating a space for cultural diplomacy 

which then impacts on the jazz scene more broadly (albeit recognising that not all jazz 

festivals operate at the same level as the EFG London Jazz Festival). In doing so, as 

director David Jones explains:- 

I think what the London Jazz Festival has done is to feed out to the world at large a 

confidence that jazz is an important music and it has a place for engaging with any other 

music it chooses to work with. So I think we’ve managed to push over a lot of boundaries 

and other people have gone, ‘Well, if they can do it, so can we.’ 

Not everyone has been so positive about the London Jazz Festival’s programming over 

the years, however, particularly in the way that the festival has included ‘world music’ in its 

programme and publicity. Back in 2002, The Independent on Sunday, for example, pleaded 

that in future, ‘Can we just render unto jazz what belongs to jazz, and let world music devotees 

bang their drums elsewhere? Jazz is underfunded and underappreciated, and the way 

to attract new recruits is not by getting people along under false pretences – not that “don’t 

worry, it’s not really a jazz festival” is much of a rallying cry’ (Byrnes 2002). However, the 

Festival aims to reflect London with its myriad cultures and languages, therefore to have a 

jazz festival which didn’t include music from around the world would be unrepresentative 

of London as a global city. 

There is also criticism more broadly about festivals. For example, concerns have been 

expressed about the consequences of presenting jazz on the festival platform or the concert 

stage as it can lead to routinisation and risk aversion (Tackley and Martin 2013: 23). 

Furthermore, unlike the sustained engagement of regular club attendance, some argue that 

festivals offer superficial social and cultural engagement with both art and with other people 

(Jordan 2015: 10). 

Criticism aside, what this paper has shown is how festivals and festivals producers have 

played a creative and practical role in the development of jazz in Europe (and beyond), 

providing funding and frameworks and space for dialogue between the musicians who 

ultimately create the new sounds of European jazz. To conclude, it is worth returning 

to Cloonan’s assertion that promoters are the music industries’ new ruling class and that 

an understanding of their worldview provides key insights into the contemporary – and 

potential future – state of those industries. In the face of climate change, continuing economic 

uncertainty, mass global migration, and a post-Brexit Europe, festivals like the EFG 

London Jazz Festival which are global in its scope and pluralist in attitude can provide a 

progressive, outward-facing worldview in an otherwise seeming increasingly isolationist 

world.


References 

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13-Jul-16. http://music.britishcouncil.org/projects/music-showcases/efg-london-jazzfestival-2014 

Burch, Bex. 2016. Telephone interview with Emma Webster, 11 January 2016. 

Cloonan, Martin, ‘Selling the experience: The world-views of British concert promoters, 

Creative Industries Journal, 5, no. 1 + 2 (2012), 151–170. 

Cloonan, Martin, Promoting Live Music: Practising Creativity? Unpublished journal article, 

n.d. 

Colter Walls, Seth, ‘Is jazz entering a new golden age?’ The Guardian, 8 July, 2016. Accessed 

11-Jul-16. 

https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/jul/08/is-jazz-entering-a-new-golden-age 

Cumming, John. 2016. Interview with Emma Webster, London, 11 February. 

Cumming, John. 2016. Interview with Emma Webster, London, 3 May. 

Curtis, Rebecca Anne, ‘Australia’s capital of jazz? The (re)creation of place, music and 

community at the Wangaratta Jazz Festival’. Australian Geographer 41, no. 1 (2010): 101- 

116. 

Dvinge, Anne, Christa Bruckner-Haring and Caterina Kehl, ‘Historical overview of the development 

of jazz in Denmark’, in Historical Overviews of Five Partner Countries, Rhythm 

Changes (Graz, Austria: Institute for Jazz Research, 2013): 97-113. Accessed 18-Dec-15. 

http://www.rhythmchanges.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/Historical-Report-WEBSITE.pdf 

Europe Jazz Network, ‘The EJN Manifesto’, Europe Jazz Network website, 2004. Accessed 

11-Jul-16. http://www.europejazz.net/ejn-manifesto 

Europe Jazz Network, General assembly report. Pantin, France: Europe Jazz Network, 

2010. 

Europe Jazz Network, ‘About us’, Europe Jazz Network website, 2016. Accessed 11-Jul- 

16. http://www.europejazz.net/about-europe-jazz-network 

Europe Jazz Network. 2016b. ‘A Brief History’. Europe Jazz Network website. Accessed 

11-Jul-16. http://www.europejazz.net/brief-history 

Fordham, John, ‘Back in the groove’, The Guardian, 11 May 1993: A4. 

George, Camilla. 2016. Interview with Emma Webster, London, 27 May. 

Hobsbawn, Eric (writing as Francis Newton), The Jazz Scene. London: MacGibbon &

27 

Kee, 1959. 

Jazz Development Trust and Morris Hargreaves McIntyre, How to Develop Audiences for 

Jazz. London: Arts Council England, 2001. Accessed 22-Dec-15. 

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Johnson, Phil, ‘Getting hip with the Habsburgs’, The Independent, 14 November1997: 14. 

Jones, David. 2016. Interview with Emma Webster, London, 11 February. 

Jordan, Jennie, ‘Festivalisation of Cultural Production’, in The Ecology of Culture: Community 

Engagement, Co-creation, Cross Fertilization, Conference Proceedings of the 6th 

Annual ENCACT Research Session, 21-23 October 2015 (Paris, ENCACT, 2015): 244- 

255 

Keogh, Brent, ‘“A tale of five festivals”: Exploring the cultural intermediary function of 

Australian jazz festivals’. Jazz Research Journal 8, no. 1-2 (2014): 182-201. 

Knowles, Nod, ‘Reflections on the festival business’. In Organising Music: Theory, Practice, 

Performance, ed. Nic Beech and Charlotte Gilmore. Cambridge: Cambridge University 

Press, 2015: 205-212. 

Lebrecht, Norman, ’The concert hall should be out of this world’, The Daily Telegraph, 3 

April 2010: n.p. 

Leenders, Mark A. A. M., Frank M. Go and Pawan V. Bhansing, ‘The importance of the 

location in hosting a festival: a mapping approach’, Journal of Hospitality Marketing and 

Management 24, no. 7 (2015): 754-769. 

Lyttelton, Humphrey, Last Chorus: An Autobiographical Medley. London: JR Books, 

2008. 

Martinelli, Francesco, ’European jazz’ (presentation at Researching (Jazz) Festivals, Cheltenham 

Jazz Festival, 29 April 2016). 

Massarik, Jack, ‘Hits and mixes’, Evening Standard, 20 March 1990: n.p. 

McKay, George, ‘“Unsafe things like youth and jazz”: Beaulieu Jazz Festivals (1956-61), 

and the origins of pop festival culture in Britain’, in Remembering Woodstock, ed. Andy 

Bennett (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004): 90-110. 

McKay, George, Circular Breathing: The Cultural Politics of Jazz in Britain. Durham: 

Duke University Press, 2005. 

Mead, Steve. 2015. Telephone interview with Emma Webster, 6 January. 

Medbøe, Haeftor, ‘The promoter as cultural conduit: between jazz and a hard place’, Jazz


Talks 1st University of Aveiro jazz conference, November 2013, Aveiro PT, 2013. 

Payne, Julia and Adam Jeanes, ‘Mapping’ and ‘Gapping’ the Current International Music 

Infrastructure in England. London: Arts Council England, 2010. 

Rubie, Steve. 2016. Interview with Emma Webster, 606 Club, London, 16 May. 

Serious, Arts Council England year-end report 2013-14. Unpublished document, 2014. 

Spicer, Dan, ‘Collateral Damage: Dan Spicer on the corporatisation of jazz’, The Wire, December 

2013, issue 359. Accessed 13-Jul-16. http://www.thewire.co.uk/in-writing/collateraldamage/p=10355 

Tackley, Catherine and Peter J. Martin, ‘Historical overview of the development of jazz in 

Britain’, in Historical Overviews of Five Partner Countries, Rhythm Changes (Graz, Austria: 

Institute for Jazz Research, 2013): 3-28. Accessed 18-Dec-15. 

http://www.rhythmchanges.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/Historical-Report-WEBSITE.pdf 

Thomas, Andy, ‘LIVE REPORT: London Jazz Festival, The Quietus, 23 November 2012. 

Accessed 11-Jul-16. http://thequietus.com/articles/10763-london-jazz-festival-review 

Washburne, Christopher, ‘Jazz re-bordered: cultural policy in Danish jazz’. Jazz Perspectives 

4, no. 2 (2010): 121-155 

Webster and McKay. 2015. ‘The impact of (jazz) festivals: An Arts and Humanities Research 

Council-funded research report’. Jazz Research Journal 9, no 2: 169-193. 

Webster, Emma. Promoting Live Music: A Behind-the-Scenes Ethnography, PhD thesis, 

University of Glasgow, 2011. 

Whitaker, Claire. 2016. Interview with Emma Webser, London, 21 April. 


Webster, E. (2017) The Role of the Festival Producer in the Development of Jazz, in 

Medbøe, H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe, 

Edinburgh, Continental Drift Publishing, 17–29. 


Emma Webster was the Research Associate at the University of East Anglia in 2015-16 on 

the one-year AHRC Connected Communities-funded project, the Impact of Festivals, with 

Professor George McKay, in collaboration with the EFG London Jazz Festival. She is a 

co-founder and co-Director of Live Music Exchange, a hub for anyone interested in live 

music research, and is a co-author on a three-part history of live music in Britain, as well

as co-authoring the Edinburgh live music census report and the Association of Independent 

Festivals’ six-year report. Emma received her doctorate from the University of Glasgow in 

2011; her research was a study of live music promotion in the UK, and her field of interest 

is live music, festivals, and cultural policy. Prior to returning to academia, Emma worked 

professionally for eight years in music in a variety of roles and genres including opera, 

‘world’ music, acid techno, festivals and digital distribution. 

29

3 

CULTURAL FACTORIES AND THE 

CONTEMPORARY PRODUCTION LINE 

Petter Frost Fadnes 

Introduction 

I chose to call the following text an ethnographic reflection. The research is participatory, 

informal, subjective and experiential, and could be labelled artistic research in certain circles; 

I attempt to contextualise such inside-view-reflections in a wider (more objective) 

context through merging the performance of improvised music with its ‘in situ’, real time 

physical space. The music and its space is here viewed as one symbiotic entity. Call it 

“musicking” (Small, 1998) if you like, emphasising “what people do” in such a space. In 

my reflections, I look at what crucial factors actually impact “what people do” in a performance 

space. For the improvising musician, Windsor and de Bézenac (2012) utilize 

affordances to describe what actually guides action (in other words what makes improvisers 

play what they play). This is close to phenomenological thinking (Clifton, 1983; Frost 

Fadnes, 2004), where context – in the widest sense – is key to what Clifton would refer to 

as ‘fields of action’, and the subject’s constant interaction with the musical object within 

a specific setting. Indeed, in Merleau-Ponty’s words it is “from the subjectivity of each 

of us that each one projects this ‘one and only’ world” (2003, 415). Here, the room itself 

guides the improvisational action; where such a room is both a physical, acoustic performance 

space, but also as an analogy for creative structures (Frost Fadnes 2004; Melford 

2000). Therefore, and with regards to the following text, I will attempt to describe this 



31

32 CULTURAL FACTORIES AND THE CONTEMPORARY PRODUCTION LINE 

union between space and its improvisational practices, and, furthermore, to the best of my 

abilities exemplify this union through both the phenomenon of ‘cultural factories’ as well 

as the ‘contemporary production’ of such factories. 

In fact, with regards to ‘cultural production’, I loosely base my ideas on my experiences 

performing experimental, electroacoustic improvised music with the Anglo/Norwegian trio 

The Geordie Approach (TGA). To briefly present TGA in the words of our guitarist Chris 

Sharkey, the trio’s identity is based more on “smashing up genre” than it is working within 

established ‘boundaries’ such as free-jazz, free improvisation or electronica. Furthermore, 

TGA has over the years found particular ‘solace’ in the dark pits of the underground scene 

and its variety of curious, idiosyncratic spaces, and I am fascinated how these spaces keep 

impacting (interfering, steering?) our music. In addition to Sharkey, the band is Ståle 

Birkeland on drums and myself on saxophone, and the trio has over the years developed 

an approach (. . . ) and a sound where improvisation and electronics (electro-acoustic manipulation) 

are merged with more commercial expressions such as dance, punk, pop/rock 

etc. 1 I suppose we build our identity on a form of inclusive improvisation: an eclectic 

laissez-faire thinking where we allow ourselves the liberty to access all available and indoctrinated 

musical resources; e.g. sources emerging from memories, experiences, muscle 

skills, mods, habits etc. In other words, the cultural production I keep referring to is partly 

my own; with respect to the factory spaces in question, I am the worker’s point of view, 

and use this as basis for my analysis (safe to say I am informed by my production). 

The spaces in question are bound together through overlapping characteristics and subcultural 

traits, fittingly gathered under the descriptive terminology of ‘cultural factories’. 

This widely used labelling term is not uncanny in origin, but is rather derived from a 

common sense of industrial identity – albeit where idiosyncrasy and difference are part 

of such an identity. Through the experiences of TGA as a case, the cultural factory represents 

a reciprocal space capable of impacting all participating parties, and where the 

production line may not be separated from its rustic, industrial context and subcultural belonging. 

Subsequently this text will deal with the particular fusion between improvised 

music and cultural factories, and how TGA maneuvered and negotiated the performance 

based-, cultural- and political aspects of these spaces; exemplified by a variety of venues; 

from an old (still functional) train station (Stanica, Slovakia) to an abandoned tobacco factory 

(Tabacka, Slovakia), via a long closed brewery (Tou Scene, Norway). I have chosen 

to categorize my reflections under the headings workshops (the industrial space), cultural 

contexts (and the sociopolitical view), and finally, performing space (interaction between 

space and performance). 

1 Listen to The Geordie Approach (2013), Inatween. (CD) France: Bruce’s Fingers, BF 116. And, The Geordie 

Approach (2008), Why Eye. (Vinyl) France: Bruce’s Fingers, BF 68.

33 

Figure 3.1 

Former brewery Tou Scene, Stavanger, Norway. (Photo: P. Frost Fadnes) 

Figure 3.2 

Fadnes) 

Outside Stanica, an in-use train station, Žilina-Záriečie, Slovakia (Photo: P. Frost.


Background 

Umberto Eco explains how a “hypothetical Stone Age man” discovers the usage of “a 

cave” and its sheltering effect “as the beginning of an inside space” as opposed to outside 

in the “wind and rain”. Furthermore, “at the second cave he tries, the idea of that cave is 

soon replaced by the idea of cave tout court – a model, a type, something that does not 

exist concretely but on the basis of which he can recognize a certain context of phenomena 

as ‘cave’” (1999, 183). There are many aspects of this I could comment on: Ideas about 

familiarity to context, skills, and aesthetics, in addition to identity creation- and identity 

affirmation and how improvisers are masters at manoeuvring between inside and outside 

structure (e.g. harmonic sequences or canonised genres). 

In addition, in seeing performance and space as a union – and a symbiotic entity – we 

also underline how improvised music is site-specific. By its very nature, improvised music 

is linked to its space by constituting a ‘there and then’ occurrence unique to time and place. 

The ‘cave’ therefore covers both the idea of space created in our minds as performers, as 

well as the physical space (the room) we actually perform. And, in addition, the two do not 

really separate. Improvisation is a live art, it takes place in real space, and the impression 

of that space (in fact all the impact factors of that particular situation in itself) informs our 

improvisational choices. 

Improvisers know this – and cherish the moment – where the term site-specificity (see 

e.g. Kaye 2008, 3/46) might be more accurate. Site-specificity is about “the incursion 

of performance”, and strategies “which work against the assumptions and stabilities of site 

and location” (Kaye 2008, 3). Improvising musicians, by this assumption, not only interact 

with space, but create new space through their ‘incursion’ of music – subsequently, forming 

an intimate relationship to their performance space (their ‘cave’). Such a relationship 

is transferrable to architectonic thinking, where a terminology of improvisational architecture 

(see Frost Fadnes 2004) brings the concept of site-specificity further, representing the 

sum of all structural devises improvisers work within at any given time. Improvisational 

architecture represents all impact factors, everything that makes musicians play what they 

play: from the specific room (concert hall or cave) to the audience (forms of feed-back 

loops) and compositional structures (including genre, difficulty, rhythmic/melodic content 

etc.). Indeed, in seeing cultural factories as influential impact factors for its performers, 

I like to highlight how the room (literally) holds the basis of an improvisational performance 

– ranging from the specific acoustics (dry or reverberant), to the practical (stage 

size, light, technical specifications), to the inspirational (how the room looks and feels). 

The room also facilitates collectiveness by sheltering the musicians and audience together 

under one roof. The room is the common denominator between all the participants, and 

this communal experience consists of an interaction based on a complex process of feedback 

loops guiding the improvisational output. The specific performance situation is, in 

this light, a phenomenological reading (Frost Fadnes 2004; Clifton 1983; Merleau-Ponty 

2003), in effect asserting the individual musician’s experiential dimension as the instigator 

of the improvisational output. Ideally, each and every member of the audience goes 

through a similar process; and considering the individual “body” in the room (on stage and 

off), Clifton poignantly writes 

...music is the actualization of the possibility of any sound whatever to present to some 

human being a meaning which he experiences with his body – that is to say, with his 

mind, his feelings, his senses, his will, and his metabolism (1983, 1).

35 

Cultural factories 

The phenomenon of derelict and abandoned factories attracting the underground arts scenes 

is widespread within European cultural life. And it is fascinating to notice how local 

councils, national funding agencies and the EU are directing funding towards these types of 

venues, often justified within a large spectre of cultural policies ranging from arts funding 

(local sustainability), regeneration (gentrification) and (re-)branding (cultural capital and 

image building). 

From a musician’s point of view, performing in such spaces is a curious experience, 

often encountering a whole new set of expectations, norms and codes outside the established 

divisions of musical genre. For improvised music this has the capacity to fuel new 

musical outcomes, as musicians are able to work outside the restrictions often felt in for 

example a jazz club. The venues (or centres) here referred to as cultural factories fall into 

a relatively new breed of European performance spaces, often self-labelled under headings 

such as Cultural Factory, Independent Cultural Centre, Independent Culture Scene, Centre 

for contemporary art, Artist Collective (some of these sound more elegant in their native 

language, the Norwegian kulturfabrikk or the Slovakian kultúrny uzol (both meaning Cultural 

Factory)). Although varied in look and feel, as well as how they are organized, the 

term Cultural Factory (emphasis factory) is poignantly used; particularly, as most are abandoned 

industrial-, commercial or public spaces – like a factory, a train station or a brewery. 

Many of the cultural centres utilize the industrial connection as part of their image, marketing 

and public identity. Former brewery Tou Scene (Stavanger, NO) has kept the work 

slogan over the front door; “Arbeidsglæde er Livsglæde” (Happiness at work, is happiness 

in life). Apparently the original brewery workers detested the sign – claiming its unfitting 

likeness to Auschwitz’ gate with the slogan “Arbeit Macht Frei” (“Work Sets You Free”) 

– whilst now it is a well-liked reminder of the joys of cultural production. There are also 

curiously many breweries and tobacco factories-come-art-spaces. Whether or not artistic 

nostalgia towards the underground imagery of tobacco and alcohol (?), they do tend to 

keep the original description as part their brand name: kulturbryggeri (NO), kulturbrauerei 

(GE), tabacka (SK) or la tabacalera (SP). Other art-spaces keep the word factory as crucial 

part of their brand and identity; like Blaue Fabrik (Dresden, DE), Werk-2 (kulturfabrik, 

Leibzig, DE), Kulturfabrik (Luxenbourg), Korjaamo Culture Factory (Helsinki, FI), Fabryka 

Sztuki (art factory, Lodz, PL), and, the slightly more curious example Kulturmejeriet 

(Culure Dairy) in Lund (SWE). 

TGA found its way into the vast network of independent venues across Europe through 

the organization Trans Europe Halles (TEH), which is “a Europe based network of cultural 

centres initiated by citizens and artists” (the.net). The organization is run from Lund 

in Sweden and has 61 member-venues across 27 European countries. According to their 

website, their ”mission is to strengthen the sustainable development of non-governmental 

cultural centres and encourage new initiatives by connecting, supporting and promoting 

them” (teh.net). A more local example is the Slovakian network Anténa, which “is a 

network of organisations and centres actively involved in the area of independent contemporary 

art and culture in Slovakia” (antenanet.sk). A common thread is that through a 

process of post-industrial closures and general neglect, these spaces have often been empty 

for years, sometimes decades; and are given a new lease of life through artistic- or arts regeneration. 

Artists move in, take over and make this their place of work. Ownership is 

therefore another key word in describing the dialogue between the rustic factory space and 

its inhabitants. Subgroups within the cultural factory (for example a local music collective) 

take control over all chains of music production, generating complete ownership over the


musical outcome – often bypassing commercial ‘filters’ and expectations (see Frost Fadnes 

2015). This chain of events moves from mundane practicalities through to the performance 

itself. The musicians are involved in planning, funding and marketing at the former stage, 

through to preparing, rehearsing and performing at the latter-. They might even recruit 

most of their audience from within their own collective, revealing a production cycle that 

is relatively self-sustained. For us as visiting musicians this means that we more often 

than not meet volunteers who are often artists and musicians themselves. The interaction 

between us is effective networking between dispersed arts scenes, setting up a platform for 

informal meetings which would not otherwise take place. A good example to this is when 

TGA finished playing the venue A4, “space of contemporary culture” (Bratislava, SK). 

While packing down our gear a group of local contemporary composers started playing 

their music through the PA for us to hear. Subsequently, within the 30minute pack-down, 

we had heard a cross-section of the ‘happening’ contemporary music in Bratislava and met 

many of the relevant composers – a wholly professionalized structure would not necessarily 

facilitate such impromptu meetings. 

Workshops 

There is a logic to how the experimental arts are drawn towards the rustic and hard grind 

production environments of derelict factories. Although Tou Scene is a well kitted out 

venue, with suitable technical infrastructure, the centre has kept its rusty pipes, old wires 

and peeling paint as both an important reminder of its past history, as well as a sign of 

opposition to the clean surroundings of the local concert hall and its ‘high art’ content. For 

an underground scene used to rustic, ad hoc surroundings , peeling paint is more ‘homely’ 

than the expensive oak panelling and soft seating of the local concert hall. 2 

In fact, the factory (or the nostalgic idea factory) prevails as production facility, albeit 

in a context where the tangible outcome is an artefact (as opposed to merely consumer 

commodities; beer and cigarettes). Taking this further, the industrial space radiates more 

empathy towards the factory worker than the realms of high art – and as such the factory 

becomes the artists’ retreat from bourgeois sophistication. Indeed, the space function as a 

haven for the local underground scene, and gives its inhabitants a sense of residential control. 

This indigenous control over the space and its content is thereby essential to forming 

an environment in which it feels safe to indulge in creative experimentalism. Without this 

sense of safety, creative experimentalism is hampered by self-censorship and conformity to 

established norms and expectations. In such an atmosphere, and through the symbolism of 

Lund-based Kulturmejeriet/Cultural Dairy, one cannot help but to suggest that art is truly 

flowing like milk. 

The semantic meaning of workshop is also a poignant example; musical, dance or theatre 

workshops have a tangible, practical outcome derived from hard work; grind, muscles 

and sweat equal to any metal or wood workshop. In addition, a workshop symbolises cooperative 

work, togetherness and community – working hard towards a common cause and 

building artefacts as a team. Indeed, the process of artistic creation is commonly described 

as production; dance, film, and music production signifies the long and hard process involved. 

Finally, a finished – processed – beautiful artefact reveals itself at the end of the 

assembly line. A great many of the cultural centres utilize the industrial connection as 

2 For example, the contrast between Tou Scene and the Stavanger Concert Hall (opened in 2012) is striking.

37 

part of their image, marketing and public identity. Les Halles 3 in Brussels explains how 

the buildings used to be the “old covered Sainte Marie market”, and how it is “handsome, 

powerful, nostalgic and marked by its own history”. Equally, Budapestian, Bakelit Multi 

Art Center 4 explains how the “area was originally use in the early 1900’s manufacturing 

war related products”, and how it “developed into spinning factory for textile workers 

(sic)”. Italian, Lecce-based Manifatture Knos 5 “is a constantly developing cultural and 

social experiment born from the restoration of an old engineering workers’ training school 

that was abandoned for years”. And, finally, Moscowian Proekt Fabrika “is a multidisciplinary 

cultural centre founded in 2004 at the premises of the Technical Paper Factory 

“October””. 

Figure 3.3 Tou Scene, Stavanger, Norway); \Arbeidsglæde er Livsglæde"/Happiness at work, is 

happiness in life (Photo: P. Frost Fadnes) 

The connection between the space and its performers forms an essential bond and a 

co-dependent relationship between the space and its art; and a valid argument can be made 

that the development of a venue such as this is a large scale, collective public art statement. 

The main argument being that it is hard to separate the space from its production. When 

Norwegian, Stavanger-based Tou Scene opened their doors in 2001 to an audience, they 

initiated their pioneering productions in what was still more a factory space than a venue, 

and they did this under the banner “Site Under Construction” 6 – a nuanced duality between 

constructing a public base for the arts, in addition to constructing space which is art in itself. 

Relevant to this discussion, Patricia Phillips says about the phenomenon of public art: 

3 www.halles.be 

4 www.bakelitstudio.hu 

5 www.manifattureknos.org 

6 As a reminder to local politicians (and their unfulfilled promises) their ten-year anniversary was amply named 

“Still Under Construction”


It is a challenge to determine how to define and defend something that seems to be constantly 

changing, dispersing, and disappearing – seemingly moving from a solid to a fluid 

space (2003, 123). 

Street art comes to mind, and how speculative collectors on one hand are chiselling 

Banksys off the streets of London, and on the other, a Logan Hicks mural on a shopping 

centre wall in Stavanger (NO) was close to being painted over when the centre decided 

to retouch its façade. The art is indeed fluid, moving from one meaning to another; from 

crude tagging to priceless, from recognized art to merely a shopping centre wall. Seeing 

cultural factories as public art, we also see their predicament in securing recognition (and 

funding) on par concert halls or art museums. . . According to Phillips (2003, 131), “Public 

art is art when it encourages and expedites connections between the private and the public, 

the intimate place and the municipal space, the body and the community.” Indeed, a good 

example is the Slovakian venue Stanica, in the city of Žilina-Záriečie. Based in and around 

a still functioning train station – the building is per definition a public space. Although 

the buildings themselves are not “dispersing” or “disappearing”, the content often is. The 

art and the artistic process is “fluid”, and it is exactly this fluidity that makes it such an 

attractive space for the progressive art scene. City development and policymakers are of 

course not idle to any such development where old, abandoned spaces show potential for 

re-use (and prospects of gentrification). And in such a context, Phillips is completely right 

by claiming that “defending” such fleeting moments of great art is particularly difficult. 

The cultural policy of an expanding city is often at odds with the wishes of their local art 

scene. The fight is often posited as a dualist state of construction, and a corporate-political 

justification of a solid outcome – constructed artefacts as opposed to ‘merely’ constructing 

meaning. 

Bringing the focus back to performers and their way of negotiating meaning, this works 

on different levels depending on the relationship performers have with the venue in question 

(e.g. regular, local musicians versus international visitors). Indeed, the cultural factories 

do not merely house their local art scene; many of them have a relatively healthy 

influx of national and international artists as part of their yearly bookings. Incoming artists 

engage with the venue from a more or less neutral, unprejudiced point of view; in one way 

visiting musicians are spectators of a public art statement in situ. But at the same time they 

engage and negotiate the meaning of the art and the space through their own art – through 

their own music. This negotiation is, in Phillips’ words “about navigation, connection – 

moving to a fruitful, animating idea of common purpose” (2003, 133). Musicians negotiated 

the space as any spectator and participator to a public event, but have the added luxury 

of engagement with a real and tangible outcome. 

The cultural context of the venue 

Smith (2005, 75) writes, “gentrification is the product of local housing markets”, and continues 

by criticizing our positivistic view of the whole gentrification process; how we tend 

to celebrate the regeneration of derelict areas, forgetting how a spiralling housing-marked 

tends to exclude both local businesses as well as poorer layers of the population (the working 

classes). The advocators of city regeneration know very well how the first wave of 

gentrification often comes through the creative masses. In areas like Kreutzberg in Berlin, 

or parts of New York and London, musicians and artists move in and establish a working 

environment (galleries, venues and studios) and super-hip islands of alternative living 

within the city. A few years later young generations of trendy and money strong profes-

sionals start moving in. Groups, which Smith would call a niche of the middle class – 

money strong, but also with a high cultural capital (avid users of the arts). Culture is now 

an ‘asset’, both as in the culture of human interaction through everyday living, but also 

as in the “active engagement in cultural activity” (Evans & Foord 2003, 167). The result 

is that rent soars and the cultural instigators – artists and musicians – are rapidly prized 

out of the area. Simultaneously, local agents, entrepreneurs and small businesses move 

inn, establishing ‘luxury housing’ (in ex-factory spaces), trendy bars and restaurants. This, 

what Harvey poignantly (1985, 202) calls shifting from “a ‘supply side urbanization’ to a 

‘demand-side’ urbanization”. New availability of ‘supply’ is often priced beyond the indigenous 

social layers of the locals; and in a rapidly rising housing marked, this adds up to 

what Smith (1996, 114) calls a process of cultural and social differentiation. The shifts in 

culture is moving between old trodden layers of the classes, where cultural capital and real 

capital do not sit well together in the same part of town. 

With a “rise of bourgeois modernity” (Smith 1999, 34) – hip cafés and designer baby 

prams – the factory space venues are left with a curious predicament. In all likelihood 

the space was established during the period of the artist-invasion, often even started by the 

artists themselves. As a business though, the venue is probably dependent on audiences 

outside the circles of artists, and welcome the trendy, money strong audiences moving 

into its neighbourhood. However, the venues are also aware of the fact that they need the 

artists, need their art and their music, and their creative input in developing new spaces, 

in addition to being dependant on their voluntary work. The artists are the hub and the 

heart of the venue, and although incoming money strong professionals may be the perfect 

‘punters’, the two do not necessarily stay in the same area for very long – simply due to 

the forces of the market. The time-span they do coincide is according to Smith (1996: 

198) the “honeymoon between art and gentrification”, but how a continuing effect is a 

progressively blunt avant-garde edge of artistic output; about New York’s SoHo he says 

“once progressive but now utterly gentrified”. 

Studies on event management talk about niche-based cultural consumerism (Andersson 

et al, 2012), and it seems obvious that cultural factories belong in a niche segment of 

cultural events. The audience does however seem rather heterogeneous in nature, where 

the reasons for attending are probably many faceted and complex to categorize. Head of 

booking at Tabacka (SK), Lukas Berberich, pointed out to me regarding their audience 

demography: “main age groups” are “16-25” (“basically students”) and “25-40” (“well 

educated”), “with better economic and social status” than “the average in Slovakia”. Director 

of Tou Scene (NO), Per Arne Alstad, emphasizes how children now constitute one 

of their biggest audience groups (mainly through promoting family concerts), and whilst 

16-20 year olds are poorly represented at Tou Scene, their main age group is the more 

established 25-50 year olds. Alstad also points out how their users are above average in 

education and socioeconomic status. Although both Berberich and Alstad underline how 

this is “their experience” more than based on scientific surveys, it does emphasize my own 

impression that cultural factories vary widely both in user groups, and to what layers of the 

population they cater for in their programming. 

Although traditional class barriers are fading across Europe, it is still interesting to note 

the absence of a clear and substantial ‘working class’ presence amongst both Tou Scene 

and Tabacka’s audiences. Interestingly, Alstad points out how the older audience groups 

connect well with the preserved ‘industrial’ parts of the complex, whilst younger audiences 

tend to dislike e.g. how the main entrance leads through the old beer fermentation tank. 

Where the architects saw this as a way of stepping straight into Tou Scene’s industrial 

legacy, younger audiences find it an inconvenient detour towards their awaiting concert. 

39


Figure 3.4 The main entrance runs through the old beer fermentation tank at Tou Scene, Stavanger, 

Norway (Photo: P. Frost Fadnes) 

On the other hand, and for the audiences connecting well with industrial nostalgia (which 

in Slovakia include younger groups), perhaps this is more about working-class fetishisation. 

Parallel to Harlem Renaissance ‘slumming’, this seems familiar to how the New York 

white middle class visited the exhilaration of the Cotton Club as a diversion to ‘Victorian’ 

middle class life. Equally, it could also be about young generations turning their backs 

on commercial urban values, and seeing stripped down, rustic venues as a fresh antidote 

to consumerist pressures. With close to 50% of Spanish youth out of work, the simplistic 

(but creative) surroundings of for example the vast, Madrid-based cultural factory La 

Tabacalera makes sense as a free haven to the unaffordable city high-street. Here, the local 

variance of cultural factory users is well summed up in how “leisure activities are related 

more to life-style than life cycle changes, resulting in a heterogeneous demographic profile 

of attendees” (Gyimóthy 2012, 25). Taking this further, whether ‘underground’ and 

subcultural is the correct label is questionable, especially by realising how some of these 

venues form a well-liked and popular part of their city cultural scene. In fact, a 2012 study 

on cultural consumerism by the Stavanger City Council 7 showed that 5% of the local population 

attended the month-long summer festival organised at Tou Scene, called Tou Camp. 

This is quite a staggering amount when viewing the program consisting of an extremely 

eclectic mix of contemporary genres (music, dance, theatre, performance art etc.). Perhaps 

this is more about clever branding of the underground more than it actually constitutes the 

underground scene per se? 

7 www.stavanger.kommune.no, “Kulturinteresse og kulturaktivitet på Nord-Jæren 2012”

41 

Performance Space 

Over the years TGA has played in an array of venues, ranging from concert halls, to jazz 

clubs, bars, libraries and schools, but has a strong affinity to the cultural factory type of 

venue. Somehow these venues seem to tap into the creative collectiveness in a particularly 

effective manner – in other words, the music played at these venues we tend to rate highly 

in hindsight. The question is why? A possible answer might lay in the context between 

TGA’s use of completely open improvisational structures (flexible and open to influence) 

and the plasticity- and playroom-effect of the space. Indeed, the experiential process in 

playing a cultural factory equals physically stepping into a large tangible artefact. Once 

inside, performers start the intriguing exploration of making sense of the space – and in a 

sense attempt to understand its purpose. This will include a whole range of issues from the 

architectural layout (acoustics and light) and sound system (engineer and equipment) to 

the more esoteric feel of the space (ambience, vibe); all feeding into the overall reading of 

the surroundings. This negotiation is therefore a complex process of mixing the practical 

and physical with the inspirational and esoteric, which outcome is stepping out on stage 

and playing a direct reaction to the circumstances. The cultural factory is intriguing because 

it adds multiple layers to this process, musicians performing directly to the artistic 

statement of both the building and its content. Equal to improvising music to a silent film, 

a theatre-play or a dance performance, musicians create a connection to the space and respond 

accordingly. The extent to how and what triggers particular music in such a setting 

is often hard to grasp, and the factors at play are often fleeting in nature. One tangible and 

crucial layer is nevertheless the human social interaction between performers and venue 

staff and audience, and how the musicians engage with the sense of community in each of 

the venues. Indeed, I will argue that the improvisational process starts with the very first 

engagement with the venue, and that the negotiation is as complex, multidimensional and 

intriguing as the space and its community allows for. 

Umberto Eco underlines our inherent abilities to recognize familiar space and, importantly, 

also hints at our ability to recognize its qualities, which in turn sets in motion a 

particular interaction with the space in question. That interaction fuels much of our improvisational 

conduct – the flexibility of improvisation perfectly matching the infinite possibilities 

of space. Nachmanovitch underlines this conduct by claiming: “Acts are pulled 

from their normal context into the special context of play. Often we establish a protected 

setting or play-space . . . ” (1990, 42). Further on from this, Thomas Clifton says: 

In discussing the mutual contribution made by the experiencing subject and musical object 

being experienced, we are encouraged to think of space and spatial relations not as 

properties of objects, but as fields of action for a subject (1983, 70). 

This way, music may be viewed as “fields of action” for an individual construction of 

musical space based on a subject’s listening experience, and – rather importantly – this 

individual space may inhabit profound aesthetic values beyond merely the organization of 

spatial order. For the listener, or what Clifton sees as the “experiencing subject”, the “musical 

object” is presented by a juxtaposition of “spatial relations”, which surmise meaning 

and form through individual experience of the music. Thus, borrowing the words of Gaston 

Bachelard, the creators of music “write a room” (see 1994, 3-37) for the listener. Although 

this aural ‘architectonic’ creation may take rather personal shapes in the individual mind, 

it is based nevertheless on the sonic material of a particular piece of music. Here, read the 

words of architect Le Corbusier in the context of music:


Figure 3.5 TGA playing Stanica in front of a dancing audience. . . , Žilina-Záriečie, Slovakia 

(Photo: Andy Bell) 

The architect, by his arrangement of forms, realizes an order which is a pure creation 

of his spirit; by forms and shapes he affects our senses to an acute degree and provokes 

plastic emotion; by the relationship which he creates he wakes profound echoes in us, he 

gives us the measure of an order which we feel to be in accordance with that of our world, 

he determines the various movements of our heart and of our understanding; it is then that 

we experience the sense of beauty (2001, 1). 

Le Corbusier sees the order of forms shape into a framework capable of sheltering the 

“movements of our heart”. Not only that, but the framework itself “is a pure creation of 

[our] spirit”. Therefore, if we recognize an abstract room constructed by musical impressions, 

this room is created by artistic emotion that “wakes profound echoes in us” and, 

ultimately, becomes a harbour of “beauty”. In this light, music forms a catalyst for emotion, 

experienced as a physical reality “in accordance with that of our world” – Accrediting 

musicians with architectural skills, makes music (in the world of Le Corbusier) as real as 

stepping into a building of profound beauty. 

Summary and the ‘after-gig hang’ 

The social process between musicians and the performance space in general is often strangely 

haphazard. The romanticised idea of the travelling, exploring musician is often not much 

more than a brief encounter with a new country, new city, new venue, new audience – all 

wrapped up within a short few hours. The mutual understanding, and engagement between 

performer and promoter is initially focused on creating a solid performance, and at the face 

of it, this is the extent of engagement involved until moving onto the next venue. Hidden 

social factors are however evident. Firstly, the social engagement starts in the booking

process, an email exchange starting with an initial, mutual interest, which then expands 

to practical arrangements (e.g. technical rider, travel, accommodation, fee). This process 

is often long-drawn, and at average 10-20 emails are exchanged between us before all the 

details are settled. This email exchange is however a crucial first social interaction, and is 

important in creating a mutual social bond between the performers and the venue (turning 

up to a venue and meeting the person you’ve communicated with online for months before 

the day of the gig, is sometimes like meeting an old friend). 

The day of the performance is often extremely intense and hectic, an effort often well 

concealed to the paying audience. The musicians create an illusion of merely appearing on 

stage, and the long gruelling process behind that moment is hidden. In 2012 TGA played a 

string of seven cultural factories back to back in Slovakia. This is a relatively large country 

in square kilometres, and seven cultural factories involved a total driving distance of 2541 

kilometres covering most of the country from vest to east and back. Long days driving 

equal a shorter engagement with the venue, meaning a hectic time schedule of moving 

straight to sound check after arriving, short rest (if lucky), and then play the concert itself. 

There are however still many nuances in how at ease and comfortable we feel at the point 

of going on stage to perform, and many of these factors have been pre-decided in the few, 

brief hours beforehand. Aspects such as whether the venue has prepared well and supplied 

the right gear for us, or if the in-house technician is experienced and in control, whether 

or not the staff seem exited or not to have us play, whether or not they expect an audience 

– all play into the mental energy you bring on stage as a musician. The point is that 

social engagement – from brief encounters and ‘after-gig hangs’ to lasting friendships – 

are important impact factors towards what music is being played. As an example, a tired 

end-of-tour TGA was approached during our post-gig meal at Stanica (Žilina-Záriečie, SK) 

first by one, then by many of their audience members and venue-staff eager to talk about 

the concert. At first reluctant (I just wanted to sleep), we got more and more involved in 

an engaging (slightly schnapps fuelled) conversation that lasted well into the night. 

In summary therefore, the use of squats, derelict buildings and D.I.Y. locations is not 

a new thing for the underground art scene. It is however exciting to see how these places 

are increasingly getting organised and are cooperating on an international level (mainly 

due to the ease of online communication), which also makes these venues available for 

international musicians on a totally different scale. The exchange between performers and 

venues in such a light is a fascinating topic – where, from a musician’s point of view – the 

venues in themselves provide the improvising musicians with unique cultural- and creative 

input. As an advice to researchers, policymakers and educators, I would say delve into the 

subcultural layers of our cities factory spaces, and you’ll find how new forms of interaction 

between people, groups, art, music and architecture are cooking up whole new forms of 

urban expressions. 

43


Figure 3.6 

Deep in conversation at Stanica, Žilina-Záriečie, Slovakia (Photo: P. Frost Fadnes) 

References 

Bachelard, Gaston. 1994. The Poetics of Space – The Classic Look at How We Experience 

Intimate Places (Boston: Beacon Press, 1958, translated by Maria Jolas). 

Clifton, Thomas. 1983. Music as Heard – A Study in Applied Phenomenology. London: 

Yale University Press. 

Deutsche, Rosalyn & Cara Gendel Ryan. 1984. “The fine art of gentrification”. October, 

Vol 31: 91-111. 

Eco, Umberto. 1999. “Function and Sign: The Semiotics of Architecture”. In Rethinking 

Architecture – A Reader in Cultural Theory, edited by Neil Leach, 182-202. London: 

Routledge. 

Evans, Graeme & Jo Foord. 2003. In Urban Futures: Critical Commentaries on Shaping 

the City, edited by Malcolm Miles and Tim Hall, 167-181. London: Routledge. 

Frost Fadnes, Petter. 2015. “Improvisational Conduct and Case Studies from the Margins: 

And Insider’s View on Negotiating the Collective”. In The Cultural Politics of Jazz 

Collectives – This is Our Music, edited by Nicholas Gebhardt & Tony Whyton. London:

45 

Routledge. 

Frost Fadnes, Petter. “Improvisational Architecture”. University of Leeds. 2004. 

Gyimóthu, Szilvia. 2012. “Casual Observers, Connoisseurs and Experimentalists: A Conceptual 

Exploration of Niche Festival Visitors”. In Festival and Event Management in 

Nordic Countries, edited by Andersson, Tommy D., Donald Getz, Reidar J. Mykletun. 

New York: Routledge. 

Harvey, David. 1985. The Urbanization of Capital: Studies in the History and Theory of 

Capitalist Urbanization. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. 

Kaye, Nick. 2008 ed. Site-specific Art: Performance, Place and Documentation. London: 

Routledge. 

Le Corbusier. 2001. Towards a New Architecture (Oxford: Architectural Press, 1923, 

translated by Frederick Etchells. 

Le Corbusier. 1998. “Dancing in the Dark – The inscription of blackness in Le Corbusier’s 

Radiant City”. In Places Through the Body, edited by Heidi J. Nast and Steve Pile. 

London: Routledge. 

Merleau-Ponty, Maurice. 2003. Phenomenology of Perception (London: Routledge. 1941, 

translated by Colin Smith). 

Melford, Myra. 2000. “Aural Architecture: The Confluence of Freedom.” In Arcana, 

edited by John Zorn, 119-135. New York: Granary Books/Hips Road. 

Nachmanovitch, Stephen. 1990. Free Play: The Power of Improvisation in Life and the 

Arts. New York: G. T. Putnam‘s Sons. 

Philips, Patricia. 2003. “Public Art: A Renewable Resource”. In Urban Futures: Critical 

Commentaries on Shaping the City, edited by Malcolm Miles and Tim Hall, 122-133. 

London: Routledge. 

Small, Christopher. 1998. Musicking – The Meanings of Performing and Listening. 

Hanover: Wesleyan University Press. 

Smith, Neil. 2005. The New Urban Frontier: Gentrification and the revanchist city. London: 

Routledge, 1996. 

Windsor, Luke, & Christophe de Bézenac. 2012. “Music and affordances.” Musicae Scientiae 

16.1: 102-120.



Fadnes, P. F. (2017) Culture Factories and the Contemporary Production Line, in Medbøe, 

H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe, Edinburgh, 

Continental Drift Publishing, 31–46. 


With a parallel career in performance and academia, Frost Fadnes’ research interest is 

centered on improvisational thinking within a practical context, specifically looking at improvisational 

processes through musical performance. His overall mission is to demystify 

improvisational music making, and reveal the musical thought within the performance. 

As a saxophone player, Frost Fadnes is active much of the year with The Geordie Approach 

(UK/NO) – mixing acoustic and electronically manipulated sounds – in addition to 

the Stavanger-based collective Kitchen Orchestra, the quartet Mole (UK/FR/NO), and the 

trios Target (UK/AU/NO) and Brink (UK/NO). 

Frost Fadnes is Associate Professor at The Department of Music and Dance, University 

of Stavanger, and former principal investigator for the HERA-funded research project 

Rhythm Changes: Jazz Cultures and European Identities.

4 

SAMPLING THE PAST: THE ROLE AND 

FUNCTION OF VINTAGE MUSIC WITHIN 

ELECTRO SWING 

Chris Inglis 

Over the course of the 21st century so far, and particularly across Europe, a musical genre 

known as ‘electro swing’ has emerged. This new and innovative genre takes the vintage 

sounds of the original swing era of the 1930s and ‘40s, and pairs it with that of the age 

of electronic dance music. The purpose of this paper is to determine specifically why the 

artists involved in the genre of electro swing choose to work with vintage samples, and the 

distinct implications that working with these samples may have. As Reynolds has argued, 

where many eras of the past have had their own individual style, this no longer appears to 

be the case today. He sums this point up by stating that: 

“Instead of being about itself, the 2000s has been about every other previous decade 

happening again all at once: a simultaneity of pop time that abolishes history while nibbling 

away at the present’s own sense of itself as an era with a distinct identity and feel.” 

(Reynolds, 2011: x) 

Reynolds makes the point quite clearly that the music of the past appears to be creeping 

back into the modern day, however the reasons behind this are difficult to precisely pin 

down. Particularly with electro swing, through the use of sampling, a significant amount 

of modern music can now largely be described as simply a reinterpretation of already 

existent music. In this paper, I will present various explanations for the occurrence of this 

phenomenon. 



47

48 SAMPLING THE PAST: THE ROLE AND FUNCTION OF VINTAGE MUSIC WITHIN ELECTRO SWING 

Jazz Rap – Electro Swing’s Predecessor 

Whilst it is true that little to no academic work has taken place on the specific genre of 

electro swing, or indeed, its partial rebranding as ‘vintage remix’, a genre which has had 

considerable research conducted into it is the related genre of jazz rap, concerning artists 

such as A Tribe Called Quest, and De La Soul. Of this genre, Williams has stated that 

“the fundamental element of hip-hop culture and aesthetics is the overt use of preexisting 

material to new ends” (Williams, 2013: 1), and that “borrowing is hip-hop culture’s most 

widespread, and arguably most effective, way of celebrating itself” (Williams, 2013: 171). 

From these statements, it is clear that each of the samples used in hip-hop music will have 

very particular reasons behind their usage, and that the decisions behind this use may hold 

distinct implications. 

Perhaps surprisingly, of the many reasons given by different authors concerning the 

reasons behind the use of vintage influences, the argument that seems to appear the most 

is the suggestion that both hip-hop and jazz music emerged from the same traditions and 

creative sources. For example, McAdams and Nelson present an interview with Glenn 

Bolton – better known as Daddy-O of the jazz rap group Stetsasonic – in which he states 

that “jazz is what emanates from what the people are doing in their particular day and time. 

I believe that hip-hop is the jazz music of today” (McAdams & Nelson, 1992: 24). This 

position is supported by Patel, when stating that jazz rap established “a consummate link 

between generations, taking the essence of jazz and the essence of hip hop and showing 

they originated from the same black center” (Patel, 2003: 97). Indeed, in listing several 

similarities between both genres, Williams includes their “origins as dance music, [that 

they] were largely the product of African American urban creativity and innovation, and 

[their] shared rhythmic similarities” (Williams, 2013: 52). 

Following on from this point, Smith presents an interview with Keith Elam, known as 

Guru of the duo Gang Starr, another jazz rap act, who suggests that jazz has been “taken 

away, made into some elite, sophisticated music” (Smith, 1994: 88) – almost one of the 

‘high arts’, which is very much in opposition to how it would have originally been considered. 

This point is argued by Lopes, who demonstrates that “The sociologists Howard 

Becker (1951) and William Bruce Cameron (1954) found the jazz community to be basically 

working class without a college education” (Lopes, 2002: 249). With regards to this, 

Elam suggests that hip-hop is “bringing jazz back where it belongs” (Smith, 1994: 88). 

It is possible that some of these similarities may translate over to electro swing. Just as 

the music of the swing era evolved out of the jazz of the 1920s, EDM evolved out of the 

hip-hop of the early 1980s, and therefore many of the parallels between both genres will 

have persisted. 

Several authors however have suggested that this is not in fact the case, and that both 

hip-hop and jazz are two distinct, individual genres; the indication of this is that jazz rap’s 

sampling of vintage jazz is therefore intended to serve almost as a juxtaposition. For instance, 

Perchard suggests that the artists working within this genre are “acting with acute 

historical consciousness: not because of their closeness to jazz source materials, but precisely 

because of their distance from them” (Perchard, 2011: 286). This distance between 

jazz and rap is backed up with a quote from rapper KRS-One, who states that “my audience, 

a rap audience, would not have the faintest idea what jazz is supposed to be” (K, 

33: 1990). It’s also been suggested by Williams that, as Smith suggests that jazz is now 

considered one of the ‘high arts’ of today’s society, hip-hop’s sampling of it is perhaps an 

attempt to enter that same world. As he describes, “rap music’s borrowing from jazz was

49 

a key gesture in the defining of jazz rap as a sophisticated alternative, as part of hip-hop’s 

ongoing struggle for cultural legitimacy (Williams, 2013: 72). 

Another suggestion for the use of vintage samples within modern music, is the concept 

of ‘retelling the past’. Hip-hop’s sampling of older genres has been described by Potter 

as “re-form[ing] the traditions it draws upon” (Potter, 1995: 26), and Perchard describes 

the phenomenon that “traditions are invented and cultural memories mobilized at times of 

social change or trauma”, drawing parallels with hip-hop’s sampling of older generations’ 

music by stating that “it is possible to see hip hop’s sampling of older generations’ music as 

a similar kind of operation” (Perchard, 2011: 291). Indeed, Burke goes on to describe how 

– as the saying goes, ‘history is written by the victors’ – “marginalized cultural groups have 

been apt to make more of that cultural memory”, and that “the circulation and reproduction 

of memories, often through performative rather than literary acts, constructs oppositional 

historical narratives at the same time as it defines a contemporary “us” and “them” ”(Burke, 

1997: 54-55). This point is even further made by Rietveld, who states that: 

“From an African-American post-colonialist perspective, whilst honouring and recuperating 

cultural ancestors, cultural history is rewritten every time it is retold in order to 

establish a sense of rooted identity for a historically uprooted community.” (Rietveld, 

1998: 161) 

With regard to this it is certainly possible to see these jazz rap musicians as using vintage 

music as a way of constructing an alternate history, perhaps more favourable for themselves. 

A few additional ideas behind the use of vintage samples have been presented by 

Reynolds. For instance, a question he poses is whether “nostalgia [is] stopping our culture’s 

ability to surge forward, or are we nostalgic precisely because our culture has stopped 

moving forward and so we inevitably look back to more momentous and dynamic times” 

(Reynolds, 2011: xiv)? Additionally, he also suggests that perhaps we are now using more 

and more vintage samples simply for the reasons of ease and accessibility, stating that 

“all the sound and imagery and information that used to cost money and physical effort to 

obtain is available for free, just a few key and mouse clicks away” (Reynolds, 2011: xxi). 

Sampling jazz in electro swing 

Within the genre of jazz rap then, there are already a large number of suggestions as to why 

these artists may choose to work with vintage samples. Regarding electro swing however, 

I was keen to discover whether or not these views were echoed by the practitioners of this 

particular style. In order to do this, I contacted a number of different artists working within 

the genre, and asked: 

“with regards to your music, what do you consider the role and function of using vintage 

music to be?” 

In considering this question, Nick Hollywood – known within the electro swing world 

as a DJ, producer, and for running both the Freshly Squeezed record label, and the ‘White 

Mink’ club night – says the following: 

“Vintage music is a source of inspiration. That’s pretty much the only real common 

ground. Beyond that; in what way it inspires – either via directly sampling – or by simply 

providing a musical style template – is completely different from one artist to the next.” 

Hollywood’s description of vintage music serving as a source of inspiration for him ties 

in with Reynolds’ idea that perhaps our culture has stopped moving forward. In fact, this


implication that vintage music is perhaps of a higher quality than much of the music of 

today was quite a common theme throughout many of the responses I received. 

This suggestion is taken ever further by Per Ebdrup, known for being the DJ behind the 

Danish act Swing Republic. Ebdrup states the following: 

“Very significant. Many tracks I make in this genre are sample based. The old samples 

give a great vibe to the tracks. In those days, only the very best musicians were allowed 

to record, because of the expensive technology. So the quality of the artists is high. Lyrics 

in 20-30ties are often quite fun which gives the music a happy and light feel.” 

Ebdrup’s point that in the swing era “only the very best musicians were allowed to 

record”, and his suggestion that therefore “the quality of the artists is high” further backs 

up Reynolds’ idea. In fact, in some cases, there even appears to be an air of superiority 

within certain electro swing and vintage remix artists, which would seem to stem from this 

suggestion that their music is of a higher quality than the majority of modern music. 

This position is made evident by the duo Goldfish. As member Dominic Peters states 

of their music: 

“I think our whole thing is kind of combining the analogue and digital world together. A 

lot of dance music’s very sterile and very bright and shiny, and we try and rub in a bit of 

dirt, and a bit of analogue warmth, and real instruments, and bring back the life to dance 

music.” (Goldfishlive, 2012) 

Peters’ suggestion that they are bringing the life back to dance music, suggests that 

Goldfish feel that the majority of modern-day can be improved, and that Goldfish’s music 

is bringing about this improvement. This suggestion of superiority is summed up perfectly 

in the music video for Goldfish’s ‘One Million Views’ (GoldfishLiveVEVO, 2013). Within 

this animated video, the members of Goldfish attend a ‘DJ school’ in which caricatures of 

various other EDM musicians, such as Skrillex and Deadmau5 are found, simply repeatedly 

pressing the same button in order to make their respective music. Another character 

in the video is a dog who features prominently throughout several of their music videos, in 

this case as a professional DJ. As the band notice, this character fails to plug his equipment 

in, and plays solitaire on his computer whilst pretending to mix live. By comparison, the 

band demonstrates their abilities by performing on live instruments, in addition to electronic 

mixing. 

Another electro swing artist who has explicitly stated his opinion that this genre of 

music is of a higher standard than others is the MC HypeManSage. In his track ‘Swingting’ 

(hypemansage, 2013), in which he raps over the top of producer Kormac’s ‘Wash My 

Hands’ (Kormac, 2010), he introduces the track with the following words: 

“Now I love all different types of music, it’s true: drum ’n’ bass, I love my dubstep, I love 

my grime, a little bit of funky hip-hop, but unfortunately, I’ve just discovered swing, [. . . ] 

really, right now I feel like I need to leave other genres behind and just get with this.” 

(hypemansage, 2013) 

The song also features the lyrics “the first time I heard it, I thought ‘damn, this shit 

here’s darn close to perfect’ ”, and concludes with the words “goodbye other genres”, 

clearly demonstrating his inclination towards the electro swing style above any other. In 

fact, the point made in this song was so strong that he followed it up with yet another 

song expressing his love of this style over any other, ‘Zazou’, produced by the French duo 

Smokey Joy & The Kid (Smokey Joe & The Kid, 2012). 

To return to the artists of whom I contacted myself however, this is not necessarily to 

say that they all look down upon regular EDM artists. For example, Michael Rack, known

51 

for DJing under the name of Dutty Moonshine (who has in fact worked extensively with 

HypeManSage), says the following in response to my question: 

“Fun. Just straight fun. Jazz and Swing was an amazing and timeless sound, you could 

call it the 1st punk music of it’s day for what it went up against. Slapping vintage samples 

onto basslines and dance beats is a sure win.” 

Rack’s fondness for “basslines and dance beats” is made perfectly evident here, although 

it does perhaps seem that he still maintains a preference for vintage music, through 

his description of the reasons behind its use as “just straight fun”. The phrase “sure win” 

in particular implies some sort of competitive nature between the various genres, in which, 

in his opinion, the genre of vintage remix is rated above the rest. 

A further reason for the use of vintage samples is given by the German DJ Tobias 

Kroschel, known in the electro swing world as Sound Nomaden: 

“for me music is timeless, that means if you give vintage music a modern twist or put it 

in the right context people will feel it, even if they’re born in a different generation. The 

great opportunity of using musical themes or samples from old decades is, that you can 

reach people from age of 16-80 years. It is an amazing experience to see these different 

generations dancing together on the same music.” 

Kroschel’s description of the music as “timeless”, followed immediately by his use of 

the terms “vintage” and “modern” is perhaps slightly problematic; however the overall 

indication of this response, including his described love of seeing “different generations 

dancing together” seems to suggest that he is leaning towards the ‘same tradition’ theory, 

in his suggestion that all people and ages can be reached with this style. 

Within jazz rap too, this suggestion has been made. To return to Daddy-O of Stetsasonic, 

he has stated the following regarding their track ‘Float On’: 

“There’s a parent that’s in the living room listening to Joe Sample or Anita Baker and 

the kids are in the back listening to Stet, Public Enemy, NWA. . . but the “Float On” 

record comes on and all of a sudden there’s a parent saying, “Boy, what you doin’ in my 

records?!” – and he’s like “That’s not your record, that’s my record”. . . “Well, I like that 

one – that’s one rap record I like!” and they begin to understand each other again. Maybe 

an argument starts up “Oh I like the original better” or “They’re just copyin’!” – but the 

issue is now the father and son have something in common. It begins to bring them back 

together!” (Sangster, 1990: 20) 

The idea of using vintage samples to bring different people together would for many 

seem a very satisfying one. 

A similar point is made by Luca Gatti, who DJs under the name of Dr. Cat, and says 

the following: 

“I would say the role is a primary one, in that without those vintage samples the tracks 

would have a complete different vibe to it, I am not saying the tracks would be better I am 

just saying the track would not sound as categorized within the vintage remix domain. 

The function is of endless inspirational importance, not only re connect with the past but 

springs out in to the future.” 

A common question regarding electro swing is whether to regard it as simply a continuation 

of swing music, and what it has evolved into; or whether it is entirely its own 

genre, simply taking influence from the swing era. Whereas a DJ such as Marcus Füreder 

– who DJs under the name of Parov Stelar, quite possibly the most successful electro swing 

producer worldwide – has definitively stated that “it is called electro swing, not swing. It 

has its own right to exist” (Buhre, 2013), from this quote, it would appear that Gatti would


take the first view, in that electro swing is what swing has now evolved into. This view is 

echoed by Richard Shawcross, known for DJing under the name of C@ in the H@ who 

has been quoted as saying that “If I had to define it under a broad umbrella genre, I would 

in fact call it Jazz, not Dance music. All dance music, by definition, can be danced to, but 

not all Electro Swing music is to be danced to” (Browne, 2014). If indeed, electro swing 

can be viewed as simply what swing has now evolved into, then this would certainly tie in 

with the ‘same tradition’ theory, as it would indeed be a part of the same music. 

A multitude of reasons 

By looking at the information presented above, including the various responses from those 

deeply involved within the electro swing scene, it is clear that there are a number of different 

reasons as to why producers may choose to work with vintage samples. The fact 

that some of these views are complimentary, whereas others are contrasting leaves room 

for much more research to be conducted into this area; but these suggestions will provide 

a good starting point in addressing the use of these samples. 

For jazz rap specifically, the idea that both genres of music – jazz and hip-hop – come 

from the same traditions is certainly an interesting one, and does in fact seem to translate 

across to electro swing. As stated, both swing and EDM evolved out of jazz and hiphop 

respectively, and as a result, there are certainly parallels to be drawn there. However, 

the suggestion of a juxtaposition of styles can apply too; this point is made clearly by 

Reynolds when stating that “nearly all the most successful mash-ups worked by contrast 

and collision” (Reynolds, 2011: 358). Indeed, it does certainly appear to be the case 

with some electro swing producers that they are making a conscious attempt to combine 

contrasting styles. 

A further idea comes with the suggestion that specific artists are interested in ‘retelling 

the past’. This is certainly an intriguing idea, and as I’ve presented, has been argued 

extensively for the practice of sampling jazz within the hip-hop genre. When drawing 

the parallels we have already seen between hip-hop and jazz, and EDM and swing, it is 

possible that this suggestion may still apply. 

We then come to the suggestion that our culture has stopped moving forward, causing 

artists to look backward to more exciting times. Whilst initially appearing questionable, 

it’s important to look again at the responses received from the artists themselves. It was a 

common theme that the quality of music in the past is of a higher standard than most of 

the music today, at least in the mainstream. This would seem to suggest that, if not our 

culture has stopped moving forward, then perhaps our range of immediate influences has. 

What we do have in today’s culture, which was not available in the past however, is the 

significantly higher levels of ease that exist to obtain a large variety of samples. And whilst 

it is unlikely that these artists are using vintage samples for reasons of accessibility alone – 

they are almost certainly being used entirely for artistic purposes – the role of technology 

has ensured that it is now much easier to do this. 

As I have suggested, there is perhaps a level of superiority present too, amongst electro 

swing and vintage remix artists. This would then of course translate across to the samples 

they choose to use. By demonstrating their knowledge and use of obscure and largely 

unknown sample sources, these artists are simultaneously presenting to the world their 

uniqueness and merit as musicians, on top of their abilities as a producer. Schloss has 

described this as a “deeply embedded psychological need to find rare records (Schloss, 

2004: 37).

53 

And then we have Kroschel’s suggestion that using vintage samples is a way to bring 

different generations together. From my own experience doing field work by attending 

various electro swing events, I have witnessed many times that this is indeed the case. 

A variety of ages and generations is entirely common at these events, and it is not at all 

surprising to find people of all ages enjoying this music together. 

Conclusion 

The final suggestion I have presented is the idea that electro swing is simply the natural 

extension of swing music into the modern day. I myself would definitely subscribe to this 

theory, and my main argument would be that the primary purpose of jazz music has always 

been experimentation. 

This point has been made by a number of individuals. For instance, when speaking of 

‘avant-garde jazz’, Gridley argues that all styles of jazz “could justify having “avant-garde” 

in their title”, as they are all “about innovators rather than imitators” (Gridley, 1992: 139). 

Horn makes a similar point, when stating of jazz that “it was the sense it which it broke 

with norms that’s gave it sonic individuality”; that “the music’s departure from the norms 

of sound, rhythm and timing resulted in another further element of distinctiveness”; and 

that “having forged a distinct sonic identity, jazz was able to preserve this identity through 

many changes of style” (Horn, 2003: 30). From these definitions of jazz, one could argue 

that simply trying to repeat the styles of swing exactly how they would have sounded up to 

80 years ago goes almost against the very ideals of jazz music itself. 

I will conclude with a quote from producer Hank Shocklee, made in reference to the 

majority of modern jazz artists. As he states: 

“The new guys who are coming up only mimic what they’ve heard in the past. And jazz 

was never like that. It was always an exploration music. It explored new levels, new 

sounds, new things. There was never a formula for jazz.” (Dery, 2004: 419) 

By bringing in aspects of electronic dance music, electro swing artists are exploring and 

experimenting with what they are able to achieve within the genre. The “lack of formula” 

found in jazz can still be found within electro swing, and as a result, these artists have set 

themselves apart from any other artists simply imitating the original sounds of jazz and 

swing. What can certainly be found to be true with electro swing, is that the vast amount 

of experimentation indicating the jazz influence has undeniably remained. 

References 

Browne, G. 2014. ‘The 3 Questions – Part 1’ Jack the Cad. 

http://jackthecad.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/the-3-questions-part-1.html (accessed July 2016). 

Buhre, J. 2013. An interview with Parov Stelar. 

http://electro-swing.com/2013/webzine/interview/an-interview-with-parov-stelar/ (accessed 

July 2016). 

Burke, P. 1997. Varieties of Cultural History. Cambridge: Polity Press.


Dery, M. 2004. ‘Public Enemy: Confrontation’ In: Foreman, M. & Neal, M. A. That’s the 

Joint! The Hip-Hop Studies Reader. New York, NY: Routledge. 

Freshly Squeezed. 2015. Catalogue. http://freshlysqueezedmusic.com/catalogue.html (accessed 

July 2016). 

Goldfishlive. 2012. Goldfish Outdoor (Official Aftermovie). 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i526FcEHeU0 (accessed July 2016). 

GoldfishLiveVEVO. 2013. Goldfish – One Million Views ft. John Mani. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5cOAb2mSWU (accessed July 2016). 

Gridley, M. C. 1992. Concise Guide to Jazz. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson. 

Horn, D. 2003. ‘The identity of jazz’ In Cooke, M. & Horn, D. The Cambridge Companion 

to Jazz. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 

HypeManSage. 2013. HypeManSage – Swingting 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOVVVHeZGTA (accessed July 2016). 

K, W. 1990. ‘Talking ‘bout Jazz and Rap’ Hip-Hop Connection. August 1990. 

Kormac. 2010. Word Play. Scribble Records. (Music CD). 

Lopes, P. 2002. The Rise of a Jazz Art World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 

McAdams, J. & Nelson, H. 1992. ‘Hip-Hop Puts Fresh Spin on Jazz’ Billboard. 22 August 

1992. 

Patel, J. 2003. ‘Jungle Brothers: Straight Out the Jungle, Done by the Forces of Nature, 

De La Soul: 3 Feet High and Rising, De La Soul Is Dead, Buhloone Mindstate, A Tribe 

Called Quest: People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm, The Low End Theory, 

Midnight Marauders’ In: Wang, O. Classic Material: The Hip-Hop Album Guide. Toronto: 

ECW Press. 

Perchard, T. 2011. ‘Hip Hop Samples Jazz: Dynamics of Cultural Memory and Musical 

Tradition in the African American 1990s’ American Music. 29 (3). 

Potter, R. 1995. Spectacular Vernacular: Hip-Hop and the Politics of Postmodernism. Albany, 

NY: State University of New York Press. 

Reynolds, S. 2011. Retromania: Pop Culture’s Addiction to Its Own Past. London: Faber 

and Faber. 

Rietveld, H. C. 1998. This is Our House: House music, cultural spaces and technologies.

55 

Aldershot: Ashgate. 

Sangster, A. 1990. ‘Blood, Sweat and No Tears!’ Hip-Hop Connection. July 1990.


Schloss, J. G. 2004. Making Beats: The Art of Sample-Based Hip-Hop. Middletown, CT: 

Wesleyan University Press. 

Smith, D. 1994. ‘Gang Starr: Jazzy Situation’ Vibe. May 1994. 

Smokey Joe & The Kid. 2012. The Grand EP. Banzaï Lab. (Music CD). 

Williams, J. 2013. Rhymin’ and Stealin’: Musical Borrowing in Hip-Hop. Ann Arbor, MI: 

University of Michigan Press. 


Inglis, C. (2017) Sampling the Past: The role and function of vintage music within electro 

swing, in Medbøe, H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz 

from Europe, Edinburgh, Continental Drift Publishing, 47–56. 


Chris Inglis is a musicologist currently based in Cardiff, whose research explores the emergence 

and development of the genre of electro swing. After graduating from the BA (Hons) 

Music, Technology and Innovation programme at De Montfort University, he completed 

the MA Musicology programme at the University of Sheffield. He is currently completing 

his PhD at the University of South Wales. His other research interests include punk, and 

the art of live performance.

5 

50 YEARS OF ACADEMIC JAZZ IN 

CENTRAL EUROPE: MUSICOLOGICAL 

AND ARTISTIC RESEARCH 

PERSPECTIVES IN A CASE STUDY OF 

LOCAL JAZZ HISTORY IN GRAZ 

Michael Kahr 

The rise of jazz as an academic discipline in Europe over the past 50 years is closely 

connected to global developments, but also to the evolution of individual host institutions. 

This article investigates the history of the two academic institutes for jazz and jazz research 

in the context of the local jazz scene in the city of Graz, Austria. By considering the 

relevance of past and current artistic processes and resulting sounds to the understanding of 

jazz history, the article proposes artistic research as a meaningful approach, in combination 

with conventional musicological methods. 

Historical overview 

The first academic jazz course in Central Europe was offered at Dr. Hoch’s Konservatorium 

in Frankfurt, Germany from 1928 to 1933, with Hungarian composer Mátyás Seiber 

(1905–1960) as its director. The course attracted between nine and fourteen students each 

year (Bowers, pp119–166). After WWII other courses were initiated in Germany, including 

a course begun in 1957 at the Musikhochschule für Musik und Theater Köln and led 

by Kurt Edelhagen (1920–1982), and in 1958 at the Akademie Remscheid. 1 From the 

mid-1960s, academic jazz programs were further advanced at institutes including the Béla 

1 For an overview of the development of jazz education in Germany, including an account of the foundation of the 

jazz course at the Hochschule für Musik und Theater in Cologne, see Rolf Sudmann, “Popmusik in Studiengängen 



57

58 50 YEARS OF ACADEMIC JAZZ IN CENTRAL EUROPE 

Bártok Konzervatórium in Budapest and the newly founded Leeds Music Centre in the 

UK. 2 In 1964 the Institute for Jazz was founded at the Akademie für Musik und darstellende 

Kunst Graz, now known as the University of Music and Performing Arts. The institute 

offered a full curriculum and academic degrees in jazz studies. 3 

Soon, the institute’s work caught the interest of other academic institutions across Europe, 

as indicated by letters from the presidents of the Sibelius Academy of Music in 

Helsinki and the Hochschule für Musik und Theater in Hannover; the initiative in Graz 

influenced the foundation of jazz courses in Vienna (1969), Rotterdam (1976), Cologne 

(1979) and Hamburg (1985). 4 Wouter Turkenburg, Executive President of the International 

Association of Schools of Jazz (IASJ), has described the jazz institute in Graz as an 

‘icebreaker’ in proving the feasibility of a successful jazz education program to academic 

institutions in Europe. 5 

The status of Graz as a center of academic jazz was further advanced in 1969 by the 

foundation of the International Society for Jazz Research (IGJ), 6 the organization of the 

first international jazz research conference, and the initiation of the two publication series 

Jazzforschung/Jazz Research and Beiträge zur Jazzforschung/Studies in Jazz Research. 7 

Fostered by the internationally recognized activities of the IGJ and legal changes regarding 

the organization of the tertiary education sector in Austria, the Institute for Jazz 

Research was established as an independent department in 1971. 8 

The co-existence and collaboration of a pedagogical/artistic institute for jazz and a scientific 

institute for jazz research at a single university is still unique in European tertiary 

education. Over time, their achievements, and their function as an international hub for the 

jazz scene, have influenced local jazz identity and the self-perception of local musicians. 

However, some statements by local jazz figures about the institutes seem to have clearly 

promotional intent: For instance, Friedrich Körner’s lecture at the first international jazz 

deutscher Hochschulen,” in Handbuch Jugend und Musik, ed. Dieter Baacke (Opladen: Leske and Budrich 1998), 

457–476. 

2 An overview of European jazz education centres in the 1960s is provided by Körner (1969, pp8–14). For 

information on the development of the jazz course in Leeds, refer to http://leedswelcome.com/attractions/leedscollege-of-music; 

also see Tackley & Martin (2013, 22). 

3 http://www.kug.ac.at 

4 The letter from Taneli Kuustistos, rector of the Sibelius Academy in Helsinki, to Erich Marckhl, president of the 

Academy of Music in Graz, dated 16.02.1967, is archived at the library of the University of Music and Performing 

Arts, filed under StLA K37 H70, X-32-1967/68. The letter by Richard Jakoby, president of the Hochschule für 

Musik in Hannover to Friedrich Körner, chair of the Institute for Jazz in Graz, is simply dated 1970; it can be 

found in the University library under StLA K37 H70, X-32 1970/71. Trombonist Erich Kleinschuster, a founding 

member of the jazz institute in Graz, was also the founder (in 1969) and first director of the jazz course at the 

Vienna Conservatory; see Elisabeth Kolleritsch, “Erich Kleinschuster: Posaunist, Bandleader und Pädagoge,” 

Jazzforschung / Jazz Research 33 (2001): 137–154. According to an interview conducted by Loes Rusch with 

the Dutch saxophonist Leo van Oostrom on June 14, 2007, an official visit of Oostrom to Graz in the early 

1970s – probably among other factors, such as the example of the Berklee College of Music – had considerable 

impact on the establishment of the jazz course in Rotterdam; compare Loes Rusch, “Jazzpracticum: Over de 

institutionalisering van jazzonderwijs in Nederland,” MA thesis, Amsterdam: University of Amsterdam, 2007. 

According to Harald Neuwirth, then head of the Graz jazz institute, trombonist Jiggs Wigham became acquainted 

with the institute’s course structure when he appeared as a guest soloist in Graz; Wigham subsequently became 

the first director of the jazz course in Cologne in 1979. Finally, Dieter Glawischnig (among others) cites the 

significance of the Graz model for Hamburg in Benedix (2003). 

5 Turkenburg’s quote emerged in a discussion at the conference ‘Growing Up: Jazz in Europe 1960–1980’ in 

Lucerne from November 6–8, 2014. It should, however, be noted that the institute in Graz was clearly modelled 

at least partly on the Berklee School of Music (now Berklee College of Music) in Boston, USA. 

6 http://www.jazzresearch.org 

7 The conference lectures were published in the first issue of Jazzforschung/Jazz Research 1 (1969). 

8 https://www.ris.bka.gv.at/Dokumente/BgblPdf/1970 54 0/1970 54 0.pdf

59 

research conference in Graz was titled ‘Graz: Zentrum der Jazzforschung’ (Graz: Center 

of Jazz Research) – see Körner (1969, pp8-14). Ten years later, the institute is portrayed 

by Michael Thiem as ‘one of the best’ respectively ‘the only [one] of its kind’ in his article“Dieter 

Glawischnig” (1979, 39). In a review of the big band seminars with Peter 

Herbolzheimer at the Institute for Jazz, the institute is heralded as ‘the first and still only’ 

(Semper, 1981: pp21–24). In a recent printed concert schedule for the Institute for Jazz, 

the institute is described as ‘one of the oldest and most acclaimed educational institutions 

worldwide’(translated from Brück, 2016: 3). The current official development plan of the 

University of Music and Performing Arts Graz for the period 2016–2021 states: ‘The jazz 

studies program in Graz was established as the first academic educational opportunity for 

this music in Europe’. 9 

Despite the pride that resonates in some statements by representatives of the Graz jazz 

scene about the institutes, criticism and conflict, both internal and external, have also 

played their role. Witnesses report that internal conflicts among faculty members began 

soon after the institute’s founding in 1965; external criticism appeared after a scandalous 

performance by the Max Roach Quintet (Freddie Hubbard, tp; James Spaulding, as; Ronnie 

Mathews, p; Jymie Merritt, b; and Roach, dr) at the Erste Grazer Internationale Jazztage 

(First Graz International Jazz Days). Public indignation followed Hubbard’s and 

Spaulding’s arrest for alcohol abuse and inappropriate behavior on stage; many blamed 

the jazz institute’s chair – who was the festival’s main organizer – for irresponsible use of 

public money in support of such ‘outrageous’ events. 10 While the incident is remembered 

by some as an anecdote in the history of jazz in Graz, others interpret it as an outbreak of 

animosity towards the jazz camp. Other conflicts, mainly in the form of power struggles 

within the university, disagreement regarding the distribution of financial resources, and 

student protests regarding course requirements began in the mid-1970s and were reported 

in local newspapers. 11 

Initially, the faculty at the jazz institute consisted mainly of local musicians, some of 

whom had won awards at national and international jazz competitions. Early on they 

were assisted by foreign lecturers such as Slovenian composer and arranger Janez Gregorc 

(1934–2012, employed from 1965–1976), Swedish trombonist Eje Thelin (1938–1990, 

employed from 1967–1972), Slovenian guitarist Milan Ferlež (1940–2006, employed from 

1974–1975) and American bassist Wayne Darling (b. 1945, employed from 1983–2013). 

Other international artists worked as guest professors or temporary visiting artists at the institute; 

among the most frequent guests were American singers Jay Clayton, Sheila Jordan, 

Andy Bey and Mark Murphy, German arranger Peter Herbolzheimer, American pianist Bill 

Dobbins and American bassist Ron McClure. The organization of workshops with visiting 

guest artists at the jazz institute has been maintained until today; since 2009 as part of the 

so-called ‘artist in residence’ program. 

9 Translated by the author from: 

https://www.kug.ac.at/fileadmin/media/planev 44/Dokumente/Downloads/Arbeitsbehelfe 

Studienunterlagen Informationen/mb 1 s 1 Entwicklungsplan 2016–2021.pdf. For further details on the views 

of local jazz musicians on the development of the jazz institutes in Graz, see Kahr (2016). 

10 One particularly critical article, by an anonymous author, appeared in the newspaper Kleine Zeitung on November 

15, 1966. 

11 For instance, compare Peter Vujica, “Das dunkle Berufungsgeheimnis,” Kleine Zeitung, March 13, 1974; Peter 

Vujica, “Revolte gegen die Theorie,” Kleine Zeitung, June 7, 1974; Bernd Schmidt, “Jazz als progressives Alibi,” 

Kleine Zeitung, January 8, 1981; NA, “Auseinandersetzungen um Jazz an der Grazer Hochschule,” Die Presse, 

January 18, 1981; Gunther Baumann, “Heftiger Streit um neue Jazz-Professuren,” Kurier, November 20, 1982; 

and Astrid Prange, “Gerangel um neue Jazz-Professuren,” Südost-Tagespost, November 25, 1982. Witnesses 

verify such reports – and are still very emotional when discussing them.


Mainly local musicians were elected as chairs of the institute: Friedrich Körner (1965- 

1970), Dieter Glawischnig (1970–1975), Harald Neuwirth (1975–1983 and 2000–2007), 

Karlheinz Miklin (1983–2000) and Karl Heinz Czadek (2000–2002). Since 2007 the jazz 

institute is chaired by the American trombonist, composer and arranger Edward A. Partyka 

(b. 1967). The current international faculty of professors includes the Americans 

Dena DeRose (voc, b. 1966), Jim Rotondi (tp, b. 1962), Ed Neumeister (tb, b. 1952), 

Michael Abene (p and comp, b. 1942) and Howard Curtis (dr, b. 1953), as well as the 

British saxophonist Julian Argüelles (b. 1966), German pianist Olaf Polziehn (b. 1970), 

Slovenian pianist Renato Chicco (b. 1962) and Danish bassist Morten Ramsbøl (b. 1970, 

Denmark). The Institute for Jazz Research was led by Körner until 1992, followed by 

Franz Kerschbaumer (b. 1947). In 2016, the German André Doehring was appointed as 

professor for jazz and popular music research and chair of the institute. 

The institutes for jazz and jazz research have maintained a central role within the local 

jazz scene throughout the past decades. However, faculty members have also participated 

in various activities besides their academic duties and contributed to the local culture on a 

more informal level. For instance, some lecturers and professors organized concerts and 

festivals; others became members of local ensembles, some of which involved students and 

amateur musicians. 

Researching local jazz history in Graz – methodical considerations 

The history of the interaction of jazz institutions and jazz scene in Graz represents an interesting, 

locally situated case study with potential relevance for the understanding of jazz 

identity and related aspects of inheritance and tradition within the wider European sociocultural 

context. 12 With this in mind, the research project Jazz & the city: Identity of a 

capital of jazz was designed and conducted, from 2011 to 2013, as a joint initiative by the 

jazz institutes in Graz. 13 In addition to the investigation of biographical and institutional 

history, based on a wide range of historical text documents and oral history transcripts, 

artistic processes and their resulting sounds were explored in their distinct sociocultural 

context, for a more complete understanding of local jazz history. While established musicological 

methods aim for objectivity by maintaining a distance between the researcher 

and the research object, the perspective from inside the music-making processes in Graz 

offers the potential of revealing additional, arts-based knowledge. 

Consequently, the research methodology for this project combined musicological tools 

of jazz history and analysis with concepts from artistic research, reflecting the methodical 

traditions of the two institutes: the activities at the Institute for Jazz focus on the artistic 

development of its students and are based primarily on the practical experience of faculty 

members and visiting lecturers and accompanied by an increasing body of instructional 

texts. The Institute for Jazz Research, on the other hand, focuses on the theoretical, historical 

and analytical investigation, using established musicological methods specially adapted 

to the study of jazz. 

According to common definitions of artistic research, art and the production of art are 

understood as forms of perception; according to Julian Klein, artistic research involves 

12 European jazz identities were explored in the HERA-funded ‘Rhythm Changes’ research project (2010–2013); 

see project website for further details: http://www.rhythmchanges.net 

13 The project ‘Jazz & the City: Identity of a capital of jazz’ was made possible through the Austrian Science 

Fund’s (FWF) funding scheme for artistic research (project number AR 86 G21). Project website, accessed July 

1, 2016, http://www.jazzandthecity.org

61 

‘artistic knowledge’, which is acquired in a sensory, emotional form of perception, embodied 

in the artistic experience (Klein, 2013). Henk Borgdorff (2006) describes artistic 

research a means of imparting knowledge about, for and through/in the arts and advances 

the view of ‘concepts and theories, experiences and understandings’ as immanently interwoven 

with art practices: ‘Research in the arts hence seeks to articulate some of this embodied 

knowledge throughout the creative process and in the art object’ (pp6-7). This particular 

form of knowledge defies verbalization and, according to Florian Dombois (2006), 

reveals a ‘new cosmos of insight, which cannot be acquired a priori in conventional scientific 

research; various forms of expression – word, picture, sound – appear equal’ (22). 

The SHARE Handbook for Artistic Research Education (Wilson & van Ruiten, 2014) provides 

a detailed overview of the current state and development of artistic research in higher 

education and the report of the Association Européene des Conservatoires, Académies de 

Musique et Musikhochschulen (AEC) Doctoral Studies in the Field of Music: Current Status 

and Latest Developments discusses recent developments of artistic music research in 

doctoral programs across Europe. 14 

In order to convey such particular arts-based knowledge about jazz in Graz, the author 

designed and conducted an artistic research project in the form of a compositional process 

with the aim of processing sounding, performance-based and sensory aspects involved with 

the artistic practice of the jazz tradition in Graz. The work’s progress was reflected and 

documented in a composition diary, according to similar approaches in previous studies of 

artistic processes (Zembylas & Niederauer, 2016). The diary entries attempt to provide the 

greatest possible degree of transparency and replicability. 

The fusion of research subject and object (here, the author’s combined role as researcher 

and composer) is an integral aspect of artistic research methods; in combination with musicological 

expertise, it allows a participating practitioner to record his or her specific insights, 

including an alertness to aspects based on tacit knowledge, and balances the viewpoints 

of expert professional (artist) and outside observer (scholar). The fluctuation in the 

continuum between the subjective, inside perspective of artistic practice and the outside 

observations of conventional musicology evokes parallels to Paolo de Assis’ dynamic concept 

of artistic and scientific research: 

In place of a dualistic opposition, I consider ‘research’ and ‘artistry’ as two parameters, 

two control knobs that can have different settings in different moments of the research 

procedure. In this reference frame, there is no research without creative moments, and 

there is no artistry without research situations. Sometimes the research ‘knob’ is turned 

very high while the artistic ‘knob’ is low, or vice versa; at other times they are equally 

high. But they are always in relation to each other, defining an elaborated scale, which 

can be precisely calibrated and explored by the artist-researcher. 15 

Crucial for intersubjectivity in the interpretation of such research results is knowledge 

about the position of the artist-researcher: he has been a member of the local jazz scene 

as a pianist, composer and educator for more than twenty years and gained a (more or 

less) mutual understanding of the musical approaches of a wide range of local and visiting 

musicians. Moreover, he has engaged in the organization of performances and negotiations 

with concert promoters in Graz and representatives of the local arts council. 

The result of the described artistic research process is represented by the author’s composition 

Annäherung (Rapprochement) for five horns and rhythm section and by the ac- 

14 See Wilson and van Ruiten (2014), and Tomasi and Vanmaele (2016). The dissemination of artistic research is 

addressed in Schwab and Borgdorff (2014) 

15 See de Assis (2016)


companying composition diary, which illustrates aspects of artistic research in the inquiry 

into local jazz history in Graz, and discusses some interrelationships between historical 

data and artistic processes. The diary involves analyses of the piece, which explicate the 

structure of the composition and illustrates some unconventional methodologies, including 

the creative activity of jazz composition guiding archival research and structural analysis of 

sound recordings, as well as the investigation of historical events and recordings stimulating 

and transforming new music. The score of the composition, the composition diary and 

a recording of the music are published alongside a detailed musicological account of the 

history of jazz in Graz. The publication also includes biographical information of significant 

protagonists and characterizations of their artistic processes and the resulting music 

(Kahr, 2016). 16 

In sum, the combined approach of musicological and artistic research methods in the 

research project Jazz & the City: Identity of a Capital of Jazz represents a fusion of the 

diverse competences at the two institutes for jazz and jazz research in Graz. The project has 

created a multi-perspective presentation of the local jazz history with particular emphasis 

on the historical evolution of various places within the city, its people and activities in 

jazz as well as forms of artistic knowledge, embodied in the musical practice. The artistic 

research in this project accounts for a qualitative case study with particular focus on the 

interrelation of sounding, performance-based and sensory aspects, and as an addition to 

the detailed historical survey based on conventional musicological methods. 

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(2014). Accessed July 20, 2016. https://www.researchcatalogue.net/view/51263/66815. 

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Benedix, Gabriele. “Ein Studiengang wird volljährig.” Jazzzeitung 3 (2003). Accessed 

August 20, 2015. http://www.jazzzeitung.de/jazz/2003/03/education-hamburg.shtml. 

Bowers, Kathryn Smith. “East Meets West: Contributions of Mátyás Seiber to Jazz in 

Germany,” in Jazz & the Germans: Essays on the Influence of “Hot” American Idioms on 

20the Century German Music, edited by Michael J. Budds, 119–166. Vol. 17 of Monographs 

and Bibliographies in American Music. Hillsdale: Pendragon Press, 2002. 

Borgdorff, Henk. “The Debate on Research in the Arts.” Sensuous Knowledge – Focus 

on Artistic Research and Development 2 (2006), reprinted in The Dutch Journal of Music 

Theory 12 (2007): 1–17. 

Brück, Günther. “Musik kennt keine Grenzen,” in KUG Jazz Live! 1, edited by Institute 

for Jazz/University of Music and Performing Arts Graz, 3. Graz: University of Music and 

Performing Arts, 2016. 

Bundeskanzleramt/Rechtsinformationssystem. “Kunstakademiegesetz-Novelle 1962, Bun- 

16 The compositions and additional pieces, which express various aspects of the history of jazz in Graz are released 

on the CD Michael Kahr, Jazz & the City (. . . and me), Alessa Records 1047, 2016.

63 

desgesetzblatt für die Republik Österreich 190 (5.12.1962).” Accessed January 2, 2016. 

https://www.ris.bka.gv.at/Dokumente/BgblPdf/1962 190 0/1962 190 0.pdf . 

Dombois, Florian. “Kunst als Forschung – Ein Versuch, sich selbst eine Anleitung zu 

geben,” in HKB/HEAB 2006, (Bern: Hochschule der Künste Bern, 2006), 23–31. 

Germeraad, Gert. “Rationality, Intuition and Emotion: Exploring an Artistic Process.” 

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http://www.researchcatalogue.net/view/25145/25146. 

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2016. http://www.jazzresearch.org. 

“Jazz & the City.” Accessed January 2, 2016. http://www.jazzandthecity.org. 

“Jazz & the City (. . . and me).” Accessed July 1, 2016. http://jazz-the-city-and-me.webnode.at. 

“Journal for Artistic Research JAR.” Accessed August 20, 2016. http://www.jar-online.net. 

Kahr, Michael. Jazz & the City (. . . and me). Alessa Records 1047, 2016. 

Kahr, Michael. Jazz & the City: Jazz in Graz von 1965 bis 2015. Graz: Leykam, 2016. 

Kahr, Michael. “Künstlerische Forschung im Bereich Jazz und Popularmusik an der Kunstuniversität 

Graz.” Zeitschrift für Hochschulentwicklung ZfHE 10/1 (2015): 39–51. 

Klein, Julian, “Was ist künstlerische Forschung.” kunsttexte.de/Auditive Perspektiven 2 

(2011). Accessed August 20, 2016. http://edoc.hu-berlin.de/kunsttexte/2011-2/klein-julian- 

1/PDF/klein.pdf. 

Kolleritsch Elisabeth. “Erich Kleinschuster: Posaunist, Bandleader und Pädagoge.” 

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zu seiner akademischen Etablierung. Ein zeitgeschichtlicher Beitrag zur Entwicklung des 

Jazz in Europa. Vol. 10 of Beiträge zur Jazzforschung/Studies in Jazz Research. Graz: 

ADEVA, 1995. 

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(1969): 8-14. 

“Kunstuni Graz: Entwicklungsplan 2016 bis 2021.” Universität für Musik und Darstellende 

Kunst Graz (2016). Accessed January 2, 2016. 

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2021.pdf.


“Leeds College of Music.” Accessed January 2, 2016. http://leedswelcome.com/attractions/leedscollege-of-music. 

Piller, Laura. “Das Wirken des Jazzposaunisten Eje Thelins in Graz und sein Einfluss auf 

die Entwicklung des Free Jazz 1967–1972.” MA thesis, University of Music and Perfoming 

Arts Graz, 2015. 

“Rhythm Changes.” Accessed January 2, 2016. http://www.rhythmchanges.net. 

Rusch, Loes. “Jazzpracticum: Over de institutionalisering van jazzonderwijs in Nederland.” 

MA thesis, University of Amsterdam, 2007. 

Schwab, Michael and Henk Borgdorff (eds.). The Exposition of Artistic Research: Publishing 

Art in Academia. Leiden: Leiden University Press, 2014. 

Semper, Werner. “Klausurartiger Intensivkurs: Internationales Jazz-Seminar Deutschlandsberg.” 

Jazz Podium 30, no. 10 (1981): 21–24. 

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und Musik, edited by Dieter Baacke, 457–476. Opladen: Leske and Budrich, 1998. 

Tackley, Catherine and Peter J. Martin. “Historical Overview of the development of jazz 

in Britain,” in Rhythm Changes Historical Overview of Five Partner Countries, edited by 

Tony Whyton and Christa Bruckner-Haring, 3–27. Graz: Institute for Jazz Research, 2013. 

Thiem, Michael. “Dieter Glawischnig.” Jazz Forum 60 (1979): 39–42. 

Tomasi, Ester and Joost Vanmaele. Doctoral Studies in the Field of Music: Current Status 

and Latest Developments. Report by Polifonia 3rd cycle working group. Accessed August 

20, 2016. http://www.aec-music.eu/userfiles/File/aec-report-doctoral-studies-in-the-fieldof-music-current-status-and-latest-developments-en.pdf. 

“Universität für Musik und darstellende Kunst Wien.” Accessed August 20, 2016. 

http://www.mdw.ac.at. 

Wilson, Mick and Schelte van Ruiten (eds.). SHARE Handbook for Artistic Research Education. 

Amsterdam: Elia, 2014. 

Zembylas, Tasos and Claudia Dürr. Wissen, Können und literarisches Schreiben: Eine 

Epistemologie der künstlerischen Praxis. Wien: Passagen Verlag 2009. 

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wissenstheoretische und musikwissenschaftliche Perspektiven. Wiesbaden: Springer VS, 

2016.

65 


Kahr, M. (2017) 50 Years of Academic Jazz in Central Europe: Musicological and artistic 

research perspectives in a case study of local jazz history in Graz, in Medbøe, H., Moir, 

Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe, Edinburgh, Continental 

Drift Publishing, 57–65. 


Michael Kahr currently works as a Senior Lecturer at the Institutes for Jazz und Jazz Research 

the University of Music and Performing Arts Graz, Austria and held previous positions 

at the universities of Vienna, Austria and Sydney, Australia. He received his PhD 

in 2010 at the University of Sydney with the dissertation ”Aspects of Context and Harmony 

in the Music of Clare Fischer”. His research was or is accepted to be published in 

journals such as Jazz Research Journal, Jazzforschung / Jazz Research, Journal for Artistic 

Research, Darmstädter Beiträge zur Jazzforschung, Folkwang Studien and Zeitschrift für 

Hochschulentwicklung, as well as in books by Rutledge and Cambridge Scholars Press. 

Academic presentations were held at universities in Newark, Los Angeles, Birmingham, 

Leeds, Amsterdam, Shanghai, Weimar, Lucerne and others. In 2010 Kahr worked as a Fulbright 

Scholar in the U.S. and in 2011 he received the Morroe Berger – Benny Carter Jazz 

Research Award. Much of Kahr’s creative work as a professional pianist and composer 

appears in close relation to his research. He performed at major jazz clubs and festivals 

and released several CDs.

6 

VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY 

BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN 

Renée Stefanie 

This article is inspired by a query that I am often presented with; “Why do so many jazz 

singers sing in that American-style accent even if they’re not American?” The question 

is put to me in my capacity as a voice tutor on a popular music program in Edinburgh, 

Scotland, and asked largely by colleagues in music education, or peers who perform jazz. 

For the purposes of this article I will refer to it as the vocal jazz accent (VJA). When considering 

accent for this article I take in to account the studies of the International Phonetic 

Association (IPA) who recognise that sounds vary across languages and further assert that 

“all languages have different accents and other varieties of pronounciation” (IPA 1999, 

202). I will consider a selection of jazz singers and analyse their vocal technique as a 

means to identify how the distinctive sound of a VJA is produced. 

In the analysis that follows I will describe my observations of how the vocal apparatus 

is manipulated in order to create the VJA and discuss the benefits of its use, including 

considerations of intonation, tone, and vocal range. The final section will reflect on use 

of the VJA, drawing on my own experience as a performer and educator in Edinburgh, 

Scotland. 

The framework for my analysis of vocal technique will be the model established by Jo 

Estill. Vocalists trained in the Estill Voice Model TM (hereafter referred to as Estill) learn 

about the manipulation of vocal anatomy in the production of specific dynamic and tonal 

attributes in conjunction with vocal range. Jo Estill, studied physiology of the head and 

neck and principles of speech science alongside her studies in music. She devoted her ca- 



67

68 VOCAL JAZZ ACCENT: SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE AMERICAN 

reer to voice research and teaching, developing a template of vocal figures in which thirteen 

anatomical components are taught as malleable parts that contribute to healthy voice production 

(Klimek 2005, 1). My analysis will be further enhanced by drawing on my own 

experience as a university lecturer, specialising in vocal technique for a predominantly 

Scottish and European cohort. 

Method 

In order to conduct an analysis, I selected ten European Jazz singers and chose a minimum 

of two performances from each artist to establish consistencies and inconsistencies 

in their vocal technique. A full list of analysed recordings is included as an appendix. 

Artists were selected from various countries in Europe. Some, such as Cleo Laine, were 

names that were well known to me within my own American influenced Jazz education 

in New Zealand. Others were discovered via internet searches or recommendations from 

colleagues with whom I have performed, taught, or conversed. I was keen to include artists 

performing original material, American Songbook material, and scat singing, to ascertain 

whether the VJA was apparent regardless of lyrical content and repertoire source. In order 

to gain perspective on the VJA in current use I included two emerging artists, Mads Mathias, 

and Ala.Ni, selected from the program of the Edinburgh Jazz and Blues Festival of 

2016. Additional performances from other European artists were listened to and analysed, 

some of which are referred to in this article. 

The analysis, conducted on a purposive sample, is subject to the limitations of my bias 

in identifying singers within the jazz idiom, and in analysing only a small portion of a large 

possible sample base. Analysis was conducted aurally, utilising my skills and experience 

as an educator trained in Estill to listen to performances and identify which techniques 

were used in the production of the distinctive vocal sound of each singer. 

The key signifiers I used to assist in identifying which techniques singers were using 

are summarised in the mind map, figure 6.1, below. I have described the sound of each as 

I perceive them, although other practitioners of Estill might describe them differently. 

Framework for analysis 

Estill sets out a template for vocal analysis and technique that allows an experienced vocal 

practitioner to identify how the vocal apparatus has been manipulated in order to achieve 

specific sounds (Klimek 2005, 8). Vocalists trained in Estill are able to use this knowledge 

to manipulate and adjust their own vocal set up in order to vary the timbre, dynamic, and 

pitch of their voice. I have identified several key contributing components of vocal apparatus, 

shown in figure 6.2, to form a template for aural analysis. These components are the 

key contributors to vocal timbre and are utilised in the annunciation of language. I propose 

that timbre and annunciation are the key elements that contribute to the distinctive sound 

of an accent. For each of these components I have provided an example of its use by an 

American jazz vocalist for the benefit of comparison with non-American jazz singers’ use 

of the same vocal techniques. 

1 True Vocal Folds (Klimek 2005, 41-49): Estill shows that the true vocal folds (TVF) 

are housed within the larynx. They vibrate when their edges are brought close together, 

shuttering in response to exhalation, and this vibration is the source of sound. Estill shows

69 

Figure 6.1 

Aural analysis, identifiers used to establish VJA 

Figure 6.2 

Vocal Apparatus - analysed components. Please note, Image is not to scale.


that vocal range can be increased via lengthening, or tautening, of the TVF (Klimek 2005, 

44). An increase in length and tension, labeled in Estill as ‘thin folds’, allows for increased 

frequency of vibration. This has been likened to tightening the strings of a guitar (Titze 

2008), providing increased access to higher pitches. This manipulation of the TVF also 

creates a subtle change in the general timbre of a voice. The sound might be described as 

increasingly controlled, held-in, or smooth. 1 The act of tautening the TVF, labeled in Estill 

as ‘stiff folds’, provides similar access to increased range. I liken this action to the tightening 

of a drum skin. Vibration of ‘stiff folds’ requires the use of increased air-flow in order 

to provoke movement. This often results in an audible breathiness, which in combination 

with a lowered larynx, creates a sound that might be described as husky. 2 

2 Larynx (Klimek 2005, 65-69): The larynx, which houses the vocal folds, can move up 

or down within the surrounding throat, or pharynx. When it moves down, labeled in Estill 

as ‘low larynx’, it increases the space in the surrounding pharynx, creating a larger resonant 

chamber. The vocal tone becomes richer and fuller as overtones become increasingly 

accessible, especially in the lower range. 3 Estill describes the timbre of the voice when a 

low larynx is employed as having “dark colour and emotion” (Klimek 2005, 69). 

3 Aryepiglottic Sphincter (AES) (Klimek 2005, 87-92) and Nasal Cavity (Klimek 2005, 

71-78): The aryepiglottic sphincter (AES) is the name given by Estill to the space below 

the epiglottis, and above the TVF. Sound, which starts at the true vocal folds, is filtered 

through the space surrounding the larynx. The aryepiglottic sphincter, the oral cavity, and 

the nasal cavity, can be manipulated to brighten and focus the sound. The AES can be 

narrowed, functioning in a manner similar to a straight mute for a trumpet, brightening 

and focusing the sound of the voice. The soft palate can be manipulated to serve the same 

purpose. When the soft palate is in a neutral position sound is filtered through the oral 

and the nasal cavity as illustrated by the arrows in figure 6.3 below. The soft palate can be 

raised, closing off the nasal port so that the sound travels through the oral cavity alone, or 

it can be lowered to a mid positon, inducing increased nasality in the note and focusing the 

sound in a similar manner to the narrowing of the AES. Both of these techniques alter the 

vocal timbre in a manner that adds some brassiness, or ‘twang’, to the voice and they are 

often used in conjunction. 4 

1 Betty Carter provides a benchmark for use of ‘thin folds’, as can be heard from 0.22-0.33 minutes in 

her performance of Tight 1980 https://youtu.be/Q8WpogK0hs4 . Mel Tormé also provides a benchmark 

for ‘thin folds’, as can be heard from 0.18-0.33 minutes in his performance of ‘Round Midnight 1961 

https://youtu.be/FDExcXk1C44 

2 Julie London provides a benchmark for this sound from 1.51- 2.01 minutes in her performance of Cry Me 

a River 1964 https://youtu.be/DXg6UB9Qk0o . Nat King Cole peppers his vocal performances with ‘stiff 

folds’, providing a clear example on the lyric “before” at 1.04 minutes in his rendition of Unforgettable 

https://youtu.be/Fy JRGjc1To 

3 Sarah Vaughan provides a benchmark for the sound of a low larynx, utilising a low larynx with increasing 

intensity from 0.33 – 0.49 minutes until the lowest note of this section in her performance of Tenderly 1958 

https://youtu.be/qNi6M A9AzU Oscar Brown Jr. utilises a lowered larynx as a textural addition to his singing, 

which can be heard from 0.16-0.27 minutes in his performance of Afro Blue https://youtu.be/zRsAhg6rEsA 

4 Betty Carter provides a benchmark for the sound of a narrow AES and mid soft palate in conjunction 

to create a bright and focused vocal performance in her rendition of Bluebird of Happiness 1958 

https://youtu.be/DtpgVI6 BNk . Chet Baker can be heard utilising this same combination of narrow AES 

and mid soft palate in creating a focused vocal sound on his rendition of Do it the Hard Way 1958 

https://youtu.be/exfDwKObxUM

71 

Figure 6.3 Sound waves, produced by vibrating TVF, travel through the pharynx via AES, oral, 

and nasal cavity. 

4 Articulators: During articulation the lips, teeth, and especially tongue, alter the shape of 

the oral cavity and throat. 

4a Tongue: Estill exerts that movement of the root of the tongue has an impact on pitch 

(Klimek 2005, 85). Pronunciation of certain vowel shapes causes the root of the tongue to 

protrude in the back of the throat and this can create problems with intonation. In order to 

achieve good intonation, my training and teaching includes what we term as ‘placement’; 

an act that alters tongue position and keeps the root of the tongue forward. Figure 6.4 

shows the placement (shown as a blue dot) of the ‘cardinal vowel’ formant ‘Ah’, according 

to the International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA 1999, 416), with a representation of the tongue 

shape when speaking this vowel. The red dot shows placement when the root of the tongue 

is brought forward, with the altered tongue position represented as a dashed line. 

In order to achieve consistency of tone and intonation, tongue movement is minimised 

in order to sustain a shape in the oral cavity that provides both resonance and focus to a 

note. Gillyanne Kayes calls this the act of medialisation (Kayes 2004, 100). The aim is to 

shift between vowels with minimal alteration to the shape of the oral cavity. 5 

Over the course of analysis, I noticed five key vowel shapes to which jazz vocalists 

were most likely to medialise. Figure 6.5 below shows these ‘cardinal vowels’, in a neutral 

formant as identified by the IPA (IPA 1999, 416) represented by the blue dots, and with 

‘placement’ represented by the red dots. The red dots are the shapes and placements I refer 

5 When Ella Fitzgerald sings Misty, she ‘medialises’ the vowels to the shape of the oral cavity when singing 

‘eh’; the vowel shape belonging to the lyric “hand” at 0.41 minutes in her performance of Misty 1960 

https://youtu.be/rPOlakkBlj8


Figure 6.4 Altered tongue shape and note placement of ’Ah’ formant when pulling the root of the 

tongue forward 

Figure 6.5 Blue dots represent standard placement, and red dots represent altered placement, of 

five key vowel shapes 

to when discussing vowels and medialisation in my analysis. 

4b Lips: Estill identifies the lips as a sphincter (Klimek 2005, 99). Like the AES and 

nasal cavity the shape of the lips, from pursed to spread, can darken or brighten the vocal 

sound. When articulating consonants, the lips, teeth, and tip of the tongue alter the shape 

of the sphincter. The singers I have analysed mediliase to consonants in a similar manner 

as they do to vowel shapes. By keeping the movement of the mouth minimal, the singer 

achieves a consistency of control over tone and is enabled to articulate at greater speeds. 

In the course of analysis, I noticed preference for the consonant shapes ‘n’, ‘d’, and ‘t’. 

These occur at the front of the mouth, where the tip of the tongue sits directly behind the

73 

teeth. These consonant shapes, in which the tip of the tongue is behind the teeth, are also 

helpful in bringing the root of the tongue forward in the placement of vowels. 6 

Findings 

Every singer analysed made use of nasality or narrowed AES. The use of these techniques 

focuses pitch, tone, and intonation. The majority utilised the narrowed AES and nasality 

in conjunction, especially in the higher range. In Rita Reys’ performance of It’s Alright 

With Me, for example, she uses the two in conjunction throughout her performance. 7 At 

3.12 minutes she increases the use of nasality to focus the highest note, sung on the lyric 

“game”. 

The male vocalists analysed were more inclined to utilise nasality to focus their notes 

without narrowing the AES. In David Linx’s Performance of Even Make It Up, for example, 

he uses nasality, which focuses his vocal tone and tuning. 8 The elimination of the 

narrow AES contributes to a more conversational or spoken quality in his singing. He adds 

narrow AES in portions of the song where vocal dynamic is increased, removing some of 

the nasality and creating a more rounded tone whilst maintaining the focused intonation. 

This can be heard, for example, at 1.17 minutes in to his performance on the lyric “even 

make it up”. 

Every singer analysed used ‘thin folds’, with several making use of ‘stiff folds’ in portions 

of performance. The use of ‘thin folds’ provides access to a wide vocal range with 

consistency of quality, control, and dynamic. Use of ‘stiff folds’ enables access to a similar, 

and often increased, vocal range whilst offering textural variation due to it’s breathier 

sound, and softer dynamic. For example, Carol Kidd utilises thin and stiff folds in her performance 

of It’s Delovely. 9 She sings with ‘thin folds’ in the majority of her performance, 

which starts at 1.07 minutes, negotiating the melodic range with seeming effortlessness. 

She switches momentarily to stiff folds, lending selected lyrics a lighter, breathier quality, 

as can be heard when she sings “delightful”, “delicious”, and “delovely” in the line 

beginning at 2.08 minutes. 

Cleveland Watkiss also utilised some ‘thick folds’ in the lower parts of his range. Estill 

uses the term ‘thick folds’ to describe the vocal folds in the neutral state of the speaking 

voice. Cleveland Watkiss’ additional use of ‘thick folds’, for example from 0.46-0.53 

minutes in his rendition of Let’s Face the Music and Dance, provides access to a forthright 

and dynamic sound. However ‘thick folds’ is limited in terms of vocal range and it is used 

sparingly by Watkiss in only one of four songs analysed. 10 

Low larynx was used by all the singers I analysed. This contributes to a resonant sound 

with subtle to full-bodied overtones, as is apparent in Nannie Porres’ rendition of What a 

6 Frank Sinatra medialises to an ‘n’, lingering on the consonant where the lyric allows, on “down” at 0.30 minutes, 

or “angels” at 1.08 minutes in his performance of Come Fly With Me https://youtu.be/SLC5AGGHLz0 . Demonstrating 

the ability to utililise medialisation in the enhancement of fast articulation, Anita O’Day also medialises 

to ‘n’ in her performance of Tea For Two. Consequently, when singing sharper or more plosive consonants such 

as ‘p’, b’, ‘t’ or ‘d’ the sound is subtly softened and she is able to move more quickly to the next syllabic shape, as 

can be heard when she sings “nobody near us” at 0.36 minutes in her performance of Tea for Two at the Newport 

Jazz Festival in 1958 https://youtu.be/WTOHZXFEO5c 

7 Rita Reys performs It’s Alright With Me 1961 https://youtu.be/-Nxgc3zb7VE 

8 David Linx performs Even Make it Up https://youtu.be/MaNyzugyTbM 

9 Carol Kidd performs It’s Delovely 2006 https://youtu.be/iibOjyQHL7g 

10 Cleveland Watkiss performs Let’s Face the Music and Dance 2013 https://youtu.be/NVUm1crt8t0


Figure 6.6 Darker shades represent techniques used by all singers analysed. Lighter shades 

represent techniques that serve a similar purpose in focusing tone and intonation; singers analysed 

all used one, the other, or both. 

Little Moonlight Can Do. 11 The singers I analysed have this aspect of vocal technique in 

common with operatic singers, who also sing with a low larynx throughout their range. 

Erik Leuthäuser provides an example of low larynx used in conjunction with manipulation 

of nasality and AES when performing in the finals of the Shure Montreux Jazz 

Voice Competition 2016. 12 The low larynx is used most obviously at 2.14 minutes as a 

means to emulate the resonance of the upright bass. At 2.35 minutes he subtly increases 

use of nasality in conjunction with the low larynx to focus melodic notes in his scat solo, 

increasing narrowness of AES and use of nasality the higher he goes in his vocal range. 

The use of these vocal techniques creates an initial perception of accent. As a baseline 

for comparison I will refer to the vocal quality of the characters in the American sitcom 

Friends. Friends is a long running sitcom that has been regularly repeated on television 

in the UK and is a common point of reference in conversation amongst my students and 

colleagues, therefore it provides me with a useful benchmark for comparison as a likely 

reference point for common aural experience of what the IPA refers to as “General American” 

(IPA 1999, 202). 

11 Nannie Porres performs What a Little Moonlight Can Do 1967 https://youtu.be/-KWJhS4kNXE 

12 Erik Leuthäuser performs for the finals of Shure Montreux Jazz Voice Competition 2016 

https://youtu.be/ZUNavuKlJv8

75 

The narrowing of the AES and use of nasality to brighten and focus notes when singing 

creates an initial likeness to a ’General American’ accent. Each of the six main characters 

in Friends produces vocal tone with a pronounced nasality that directs the sound of their 

voice, and is particularly apparent in the delivery of comedic lines. Nasality is common to 

most speaking voices, however in the American accent it is a particularly focused sound 

akin to that of the singers I analysed. 

The low larynx is a key contributor to the sense of accent due to the resonance it adds 

to vocal tone. Its impact is increased as it necessitates placement and medialisation when 

singing vowels. The jazz singers I analysed medialise vowels to one or more of five placed 

variations, deviating from their speaking accents to a hybridised sound that can be likened 

to the transatlantic accent. 

The transatlantic accent is a hybrid of British Received Pronunciation and General 

American developed as a neutral dialect that was predominantly utilised in film and broadcasting 

through the 1930’s to the late 1950’s (Queen 2015, 240). The accent provides a 

neutral sound that is, in my perception, clear, articulated, and easy to understand. It is 

used, for example, by screen actors Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn. In an excerpt from 

The Philadelphia Story both actors speak with a subtly lowered larynx, contributing to a 

sense of gravitas in their vocal performances. 13 The excerpt also demonstrates clear diction, 

achieved by a medialisation of annunciation to the front of the mouth where the tip of 

the tongue sits directly behind the top teeth. The effect of this medialisation is especially 

apparent when Hepburn annunciates the word ‘digusting’ at 1.41 minutes. The word is 

articulated at the front of the mouth, including the hard ‘g’, which might be pronounced 

further back in, for example, my own New Zealand accent. 

Articulation and annunciation used by the jazz singers I analysed provides further insight 

in to the perception of accent. The placement and medialisation used by these singers, 

which focuses and tunes their vocal tone, is technically similar to the annunciation of actors 

vocalising with a transatlantic accent. 

All of the singers analysed demonstrated preferences for medialising to vowel shapes 

with placement that brings the root of the tongue forward. Several of the singers varied 

the vowel shapes to which they medialised, highlighting variable attributes in repertoire. 

For example Rita Reys medialises her vowels to ‘eh’ but adjusts this basic preference to 

sit in between ‘eh’ and ‘ee’ in her performance of Thou Swell. 14 This contributes to a 

lighter vocal tone that suits the lyrical playfulness of the juxtaposing Shakespearean ‘thou’ 

with the colloquial use of ‘swell’. Comparatively, in her performance of After You’ve 

Gone Rita Reys adjusts her ‘eh’ shape towards a more rounded ‘ah’ that contributes to an 

increased sense of gravitas, which suits the lyrical combination of playful taunting with the 

underlying pain of rejection. 15 

The preferred vowels, each with slightly raised dorsum positioning and the root of the 

tongue brought forward, enables singers to place notes to the front of the mouth and improve 

intonation. Subtle adjustments, such as those employed by Rita Reys in the examples 

previously provided, contribute to adjustment of tonal colour, darkening or lightening the 

tone to suit the material. 

Cleo Laine utilises variations with dexterity. In her performance of ‘Fascinatin’ Rhythm, 

for example, she medialises to a subtly rounded ‘ee’ shape. 16 This provides a clear, direct 

13 Excerpt from The Philadelphia Story 1940 https://youtu.be/-Ot948zIr0s 

14 Rita Reys performs Thou Swell 1960 https://youtu.be/vrag29iwGJY 

15 Rita Reys After You’ve Gone 1963 https://youtu.be/PpY9Sm8wWOQ 

16 Cleo Laine Fascinatin’ Rhythm https://youtu.be/5ZWN-GBz5Fc


Figure 6.7 

Vowel and Consonant medialisation preferences of singers analysed

77 

tone when combined with ‘thin folds’, nasality, narrow AES, and low larynx. At 0.53 minutes 

in to the song, on the lyric “quiver”, she increases the intensity of the low larynx and 

adjusts medialisation to an ‘ah’ shape, which creates a momentary increase in resonance 

and darkening of the vocal tone. 

Emerging artist Ala.Ni consistently utilises a low larynx, creating a resonant vocal 

sound that can be heard throughout her rendition of ‘Cry Me a River’. 17 She accompanies 

the lowered larynx in this example with medialisation to an ‘oh’ shape. With the root 

of the tongue kept forward, the ‘oh’ shape contributes to a dark tone which, to me, is reminiscent 

to that of received pronounciation, exemplified by the words ‘own’ and ‘spread’ as 

annunciated by Queen Elizabeth II 2.20 minutes in to her Christmas broadcast for 2015. 18 

The vowel shapes to which the singers I analysed all medialised have tongue positions 

that sit in the middle of the mouth with the root of the tongue brought forward. This basic 

shape is adjusted in the choice of specific vowel, with ‘oh’ offering the darkest tone that 

most resembles Received Pronunciation. The perception of an American accent is most 

apparent when vocalists medialise to ‘ee’, ‘eh’ and sometimes ‘aw’ shapes. The placement 

and tonality of these shapes are similar to the tonal attributes of ‘General American’. Their 

use promotes, alongside a focused nasality, a subtly widened lip shape that is also evident 

in the ‘General American’ spoken accent. This subtly widened lip can also be visually observed 

in excerpts from Friends. 19 As the actors articulate words there is a subtle spreading 

of the lips at the ends of phrases. Visually, this can be compared to footage of Nannie Porres 

performing What a Little Moonlight Can Do 20 , or Mads Mathias performing Fool for 

Love. 21 

Speed, and lyrical definition, can be similarly improved via medialisation of consonant 

shapes. The singers analysed favoured medialisation to consonants that are pronounced 

with the tip of the tongue on or near the ridge of mouth, such as ‘t’, ‘d’ and ‘n’. Medialising 

to an ‘n’ shape is also helpful in accessing nasality for the focus of intonation. The 

medialisation of consonants creates a smaller space within which the tongue moves. In so 

doing, it minimises the amount of movement required to articulate syllables clearly, making 

it possible to sing faster lines. Latvian vocalist Arta Jekabsone demonstrates this in her 

rendition of Four for the Shure Montreaux Jazz Voice Competition 2016. 22 

The similarities to ‘General American’ or transatlantic accents are most apparent when 

singers are performing an English lyric, however the techniques that contribute to these 

perceived accents are the same when artists for whom English is a second language perform 

in their native tongue. In his performance of Letter to My Son, for example, David Linx 

performs English and French lyric with seamless transition, medialising in both languages 

to a vowel shape that sits between ‘eh’ and ‘ee’. 23 Berit Andersson performs the Swedish 

lyric of Sommarbris with the same template of vocal technique set out by the other singers 

I have analysed, medialising to an ‘ee’ shape that provides a bright and focused tone. The 

VJA prevails unnoticed once the English lyric is set aside. 24 

Some of the vocalists I analysed performed scat solo’s, or vocalised without lyrics. The 

perception of an accent is still apparent, but lessened, as it is free of the aural expectations 

17 Ala.Ni performs Cry Me a River 2015 https://youtu.be/hXHLh3C8PGY 

18 Queen Elizabeth II, Christmas Broadcast 2015 https://youtu.be/8Mzor6Hf1tY 

19 Selection of scenes from Friends, Season 3 https://youtu.be/Yisf5pk074M 

20 Nannie Porres performs What a Little Moonlight Can Do 1967 https://youtu.be/-KWJhS4kNXE 

21 Mads Mathias performs Fool for Love 2014 https://youtu.be/6 MA9Bk8KXY 

22 Arta Jekabson performs Four for Shure Montreux Jazz Voice Competition, 2016 https://youtu.be/-eE8c9s-bFY 

23 David Linx performs Letter to My Son 2012 https://youtu.be/8LaliIh08yo 

24 Berit Andersson performs Sommarbris 2008 https://youtu.be/poAchE08kOM


linked to spoken language. Its technical benefits remain relevant for focusing the note, 

adding resonance, and achieving purity of intonation. Variations occur predominantly in 

the exploration of consonant use, with medialisation to various consonant sounds such 

as ‘l’, a hard ‘g’, a hard ‘k’, and a softened ‘b’ providing a greater variety of percussive 

sounds as might be heard in Urszulu Dudziak’s recording of Papaya between 0.38 and 0.50 

minutes. 25 Some of these singers also make increased use of medialisation to ‘ng’, which 

contributes to an increased nasality that is useful in focusing notes. This is apparent in 

Cleveland Watkiss’ lyric free performance for the Sligo Jazz Project. 26 

Discussion 

Estill describes the combination of several techniques, in which vocal anatomy is manipulated, 

as a recipe (Klimek 2005, 5). The technical recipe, favoured by the singers I have 

analysed, is most likely a ‘template’ learned via mimicry. Mimicry, for the majority of 

vocalists I have learned alongside and taught, is how we first learn to sing. We cannot see 

the physical apparatus that produces our vocal sound and cannot, therefore, be certain of 

what note we are going to sing, so we learn pitch and control via an empathetic awareness 

that allows us to imitate the sounds of others. As a student of vocal jazz, the first artists I 

was pointed towards were Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra, and Louis Armstrong. 

There followed Sarah Vaughan, Carmen MacRae, Shirley Horn, Mel Tormé, Jon 

Hendricks, Betty Carter, and many more singers, all of whom were/are American. A lot 

can be learnt via imitation, especially when learning an instrument that is not visible to the 

player, but mimicking the sounds of those you admire will develop techniques that replicate 

their tone. Articulation and shaping of words, which are in a symbiotic relationship 

with the tuning of notes, is similarly emulated and for those, like me, who learnt to sing in 

this manner, an accent is inadvertently adopted. What is harder to do, once confidence and 

experience develops, is to lose that accent should you so desire. 

Technical knowledge has allowed me to revise use of vocal technique and sing in an 

accent closer to my own New Zealand/European hybrid. The use of ‘low larynx’, ‘thin 

folds’, ‘narrow AES’ and nasality requires me to adopt placement and consonant medialisation 

to control tone, intonation, speed and clarity. By mediliasing to a shape that sits in 

between ‘uh’ and ‘aw’, however, I am able to sing in an accent that more closely resembles 

my speaking accent. Monica Zetturland’s accent comes to the fore by medialising predominantly 

to an ‘uh’ shape that allows for the integration of an indicative forward placed 

‘r’. This can be heard in her performance of Some Other Time, where the ‘uh’ shape she 

medialises to is heard most clearly on the lyric unspoken at 1.09 minutes. 27 By choosing 

an alternate vowel for medialisation, it is possible to bring out tonality that may be closer 

to the singers speaking accent. 

These adjustments, however, will have an impact on tone production and speed. For 

example, if I sing Annie Ross’ vocalese for Twisted, which I like to perform up tempo 

from the original, medialising to the ‘uh’ and ‘aw’ hybrid vowel shape that would bring 

me closer to my speaking accent creates a mouth shape that hinders my ability to articulate 

words at the speed I desire. Medialising to ‘eh’ allows me to maintain a smaller mouth 

25 Urszula Dudziak performs Papaya 1976 https://youtu.be/zWSfiVp0vYA 

26 Cleveland Watkiss perfroms at Sligo Jazz Project 2011 https://youtu.be/lpHo6cBjw00 

27 Monica Zetterlund performs Some Other Time 1965 https://youtu.be/Ob0HX84Fojk

79 

shape that is conducive to faster articulation. 28 As a teacher I often work with students 

who wish to achieve powerful dynamics in their upper range. This is achieved, without 

straining the voice, through application of narrowed AES, nasality, and medialisation that 

favours ‘ee’ and ‘eh’. The result is a dynamic and controlled upper range, and an accent 

that more closely resembles ‘General American’. 

In several of the performance examples given in this article, singers vary the tonality 

of their vocal sound through application of technique. The larynx might be lowered to 

varying degrees to darken tones, or the AES increasingly narrowed to provide a more 

dynamic vocal sound. Medialisation to vowel shapes is also used with subtle variations, 

where adjustments are made to brighten or darken the vocal tone whilst maintaining purity 

of intonation. As a performer I utilise variations with specific intentions. I will medialise 

to the same consonants as the singers I have analysed because when I do so, I find it easier 

to maintain intonation and speed. I will medialise to ‘eh’ and sometimes ‘aw’ when I wish 

to have a brighter, controlled tone in my vocal sound and will often use this when I wish to 

inject a sense of humour or enjoyment in my interpretation of lyrics. I will make use of a 

low larynx, with varying intensity, to add depth and darkness to my vocal tone in order to 

add gravitas to a lyrical narrative, or emulate the sound of some instruments, such as bass 

or trombone. I adjust how I use technique with specific aims of tone, speed, intonation 

and control and as a consequence my accent is often affected. Like the jazz singers I have 

analysed, I use the VJA. 

The VJA, which I believe is the product of high levels of technical ability, doesn’t necessarily 

make sense as identifiably American. Whilst we may perceive the influence of 

American luminaries as the origin of its use, I believe the VJA should be acknowledged 

as a skill set that enables singers in the jazz idiom to sing with tonal and dynamic control. 

Singers with technical self-awareness, which can be achieved with experience and/or training, 

are capable of adjusting how they use the VJA and may be able to produce a sound 

that more closely resembles their speaking accents. These adjustments will, however, impact 

on other aspects of their vocal performance. Like any other instrument, singers make 

choices in the application of vocal technique in order to achieve musical aims of range, 

pitch, dynamic, tone, speed, intonation and control. For example, if speed is the primary 

concern, medialising to ‘eh’ and ‘ee’ vowel shapes is most conducive to managing fast articulation, 

but the darker or richer tones that might be achieved by medialising to an ‘ah’ or 

‘oh’ shape is compromised. If concerns of accent are foremost in the singers’ mind, other 

aspects of vocal performance will be compromised. For the benefit of technical control 

over intonation, speed, dynamic, and tone the VJA is, in Estill terms, a recipe made of the 

best possible ingredients to produce the desired result. 

References 

Alkyer, Frank, Enright, Ed, Koransky, Jason, Cohen, Aaron and Cagle, Jeff, eds. Downbeat 

- The Great Jazz Interviews; A 75th Anniversary Anthology. New York: Hal Leonard, 

2009. 

28 Renée Stefanie performs Twisted 2000 https://soundcloud.com/renee-stefanie/twisted


Donkers, Jurjen The Official Rita Reys Website; Biography www.ritareys.eu accessed June 

2016 

Hellström, Viveka. “Is She a True Jazz Singer?” Jazz, Gender, Authenticity: Proceedings 

of the 10th Nordic Jazz Research Conference. Stockholm: statensmusikverk.se, 2012. 

Juslin, Patrick N and Laukka, Petri. “Communication of Emotions in Vocal Expression 

and Music Performance: Different Channels, Same Code?” Psychological Bulletin 129, 

no. 5 (2003):770-814. doi: 10.1037/0033-2909.129.5.770 

Kayes, Gillyanne. Singing and the Actor, Second Edition. London: A & C Black, 2004. 

Klimek, Mary McDonald, Obert, Kerrie and Steinhauer, Kimberly. Estill Voice Training 

System: Level One, Compulsory Figures for Voice Control. Think Voice International, 

2005. 

Klimek, Mary McDonald, Obert, Kerrie and Steinhauer, Kimberly. Estill Voice Training 

System: Level Two, Figure Combinations for Six Voice Qualities. Think Voice International, 

2005. 

Linx, David David Linx http://www.davidlinx-official.com accessed June 2016 

Queen, Robin. Vox Popular: The Surprising Life of Language in the Media, Kindle Edition. 

West Sussex: Wiley Blackwell, 2015. 

Rogovoy, Seth. “Betty Carter: Still Taking Risks” Berkshire Eagle November 14, 1997. 

Torff, Brian. In Love With Voices A Jazz Memoir New York: iUniverse Inc 2008. 

Tormé, Mel. My Singing Teachers: Reflections on Singing Popular Music. New York: 

Oxford University Press, 1994. 

Watkiss, Cleveland Cleveland Watkiss http://www.clevelandwatkiss.net accessed June 2016 

International Phonetic Associaton Handbook of the International Phonetic Association 

Kindle Edition Cambridge University Press, 1999 

Dankworth Management Cleo Laine http://www.quarternotes.com/Cleo.htm accessed June 

2016 

Shure Montreux Jazz Voice Competition Blog 2016 https://shureatmontreux.wordpress.com 

Accessed June 2016

81 

Appendix: List of analysed recordings and performances: 

Ala.Ni Cry Me a River La Blogothèque, 2015 https://youtu.be/hXHLh3C8PGY accessed 

July 2016 

Ala.Ni Roses and Wine Le Live 2016 https://youtu.be/qNaC2pp6JVw accessed July 2016 

Andersson, Berit Skylark 2012 https://youtu.be/aHerKdfXbZI accessed August 2016 

Andersson, Berit Sommarbris https://youtu.be/poAchE08kOM accessed July 2016 

Baker, Chet “Do it the Hard Way” It Could Happen to You; Chet Baker Sings Riverside 

1958. https://youtu.be/exfDwKObxUM accessed August 2016 

Brown Jr, Oscar “Afro Blue” Sin and Soul. . . and then some Columbia, 1960. https://youtu.be/zRsAhg6rEsA 

accessed August 2016 

Carter, Betty Tight 1980 https://youtu.be/Q8WpogK0hs4 accessed July 2016 

Carter, Betty “Bluebird of Happiness” Out There With Betty Carter Peacock Records, 

1958. https://youtu.be/DtpgVI6 BNk accessed July 2016 

Cole, Nat King Unforgettable. https://youtu.be/Fy JRGjc1To accessed July 2016 

Dudziak, Urszula “Bolero” Malowany Ptak Polonia Records, 1997 https://youtu.be/7AeISThRWBk 


Dudziak, Urszula “Night in Tunisia” Midnight Rain Arista, 1977 https://youtu.be/6lhPu5JGsl0 


Dudziak, Urszula “Papaya” Urszula Arista 1975 https://youtu.be/zWSfiVp0vYA accessed 

July 2016 

Jekabson, Arta Shure Montreux Jazz Voice Competition 2016 Finals Shure EMEA, 2016 

https://youtu.be/-eE8c9s-bFY 

Fitzgerald, Ella “Misty” Ella Fitzgerald Sings Songs from Let No Man Write My Epitaph 

Verve 1960 https://youtu.be/rPOlakkBlj8 accessed October 2016 

Kidd, Carol “Don’t Worry About Me” All My Tomorrows Linn Records 1985 https://youtu.be/uxOZfs 

Gs4 accessed July 2016 

Kidd, Carol “I Think It’s Gonna Rain Today” The Night We Called it a Day Linn Records, 

1990 https://youtu.be/QlakltvhUTA accessed July 2016 

Kidd, Carol It’s Delovely; Live at Candelriggs Glasgow George Kidd, 2006 https://youtu.be/iibOjyQHL7g 

accessed June 2016


Kidd, Carol When I Dream; live in concert https://youtu.be/lL JsZ1WXBA accessed June 

2016 

Laine, Cleo Come Rain Or Come Shine/Please Don’t Talk About Me 1968 https://youtu.be/7ImSHmf7WSg 

accessed July 2016 

Laine, Cleo Fascinatin’ Rhythm https://youtu.be/5ZWN-GBz5Fc accessed June 2016 

Laine, Cleo “It Might as Well Be Spring/Come Back to Me” Royal Variety Performance 

1977 https://youtu.be/PVx3Rndi2W4 accessed July 2016 

Laine, Cleo “On a Clear Day” Music All In https://youtu.be/hSLxdLIoHj4 accessed July 

2016 

Leuthäuser, Shure Montreux Jazz Voice Competition 2016 Finals Shure EMEA 2016 https://youtu.be/ZUNavuKlJv8 


Linx, David Letter to My Son RTL – Toujours avec vous, 2012. https://youtu.be/8LaliIh08yo 

accessed June 2016 

Linx, David Even Make it Up RTL – Toujours avec vous, 2012. https://youtu.be/MaNyzugyTbM 


Linx, David, Wissels, Diedrik “Land of Joy” This Time Le Chant Du Monde, 2003. 

https://youtu.be/au0wE6kjLE4 accessed June 2016 

London, Julie Cry Me a River 1964. https://youtu.be/DXg6UB9Qk0o accessed August 

2016 

Mathias, Mads Fool for Love Mads Mathias, 2014 https://youtu.be/6 MA9Bk8KXY accessed 

July 2016 

Mathias, Mads “Smoking Gun” Free Falling Release Concert 2012 https://youtu.be/V4ej121g3I4 


O’Day, Anita “Tea for Two” Jazz On a Summers Day Raven Films, 1960 https://youtu.be/WTOHZXFEO5c 


Porres, Nannie “Love For Sale” I Thought About You Odeon, 1971 https://youtu.be/PSO9FXBoY6U 


Porres, Nannie “What a Little Moonlight Can Do” Beppe Wolgers 1967 https://youtu.be/- 

KWJhS4kNXE accessed August 2016 

Porres, Nannie “Willow Weep for Me” Jazz Från Det Svenska 70-Talet Caprice Records, 

1974 https://youtu.be/2ejT0RZJppM accessed August 2016 

Reys, Rita “After You’ve Gone” Jazz Sir, That’s Our Baby Fontana, 1963 https://youtu.be/PpY9Sm8wWOQ

83 


Reys, Rita I Got It Bad (and That Ain’t Good); live at the North Sea Jazz Festival 1982 

https://youtu.be/eR2dgSmabNk accessed June 2016 

Reys, Rita I’m Old Fashioned TV Privé 1996 https://youtu.be/Yv0KmBIW5iY accessed 

June 2016 

Reys, Rita It’s Alright With Me; live at Grand Gala du Disc 1961 https://youtu.be/-Nxgc3zb7VE 


Reys, Rita Thou Swell; Live at the Antibes Juan-les-Pins Jazz Festival 1960 https://youtu.be/vrag29iwGJY 


Sinatra, Frank Come Fly With Me https://youtu.be/SLC5AGGHLz0 accessed August 2016 

Tormé, Mel “‘Round Midnight” Jazz Round Midnight Verve, 1961 https://youtu.be/FDExcXk1C44 

accessed September 2016 

Watkiss, Cleveland Dear Mr Kahn watkissca 2011 https://youtu.be/UT3LoU-NBGo accessed 

July 2016 

Watkiss, Cleveland Green Chimneys BBC 1989 https://youtu.be/LinDKLYGufw accessed 

July 2016 

Watkiss, Cleveland Let’s Face the Music and Dance; live at Ronnie Scott’s 2013 https://youtu.be/NVUm1crt8t0 


Watkiss, Cleveland Live for Sligo Jazz Project Sligo Jazz Project, 2011 https://youtu.be/lpHo6cBjw00 


Zetterlund, Monica Some Other Time 1965 https://youtu.be/Ob0HX84Fojk accessed August 

2016 

Zetterlund, Monica Trubbel, live 1968 https://youtu.be/C1E5iY6n1xk accessed August 

2016 

Zetterlund, Monica Waltz For Debbie 1966 https://youtu.be/8tp-nbchmHU accessed August 

2016 


Stefanie, R. (2017) Vocal Jazz Accent: Some of my best friends are American, in Medbøe, 

H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of jazz from Europe, Edinburgh, 

Continental Drift Publishing, 67–84



Renée Stefanie is a vocalist, specialising in Jazz through much of the broad spectrum that 

the genre label implies. Born in the Netherlands, raised in New Zealand, based in Scotland 

and with a debut album recorded in the South of France she is a musical amalgamation of 

European and American influences who has been initially overwhelmed by, and ultimately 

benefited from, exposure to a variety of strong musical ideas, opinions and expressions. 

She lectures in popular music at Edinburgh Napier University where she strives to collaborate 

with students in exploring a breadth of musical concepts and ideas; encouraging 

them to translate and interpret those ideas as tools to be utilised in the realisation of their 

own musical styles. Her primary areas of academic interest relate to methodologies and 

approaches to enhance creative practices, kinesthetic pedagogical approaches in relation 

to abstract concepts, and the adaptation of vocal performance to suit variations of musical 

context and creative intention.

7 

‘OUT OF NOWHERE?’: PRE-WAR JAZZ 

NETWORKS AND THE MAKING OF 

POST-WAR BELGIAN JAZZ 

Matthias Heyman 

Dedicated to the memory of Toots 

Thielemans, who passed during the 

writing of this essay. 

Shortly following the Second World War, a generation of highly successful Belgian jazz 

musicians, among them Toots Thielemans, Bobby Jaspar and René Thomas, appeared on 

the national music scene. 1 Within a decade they were internationally active, having built 

up a reputation so strong that they were asked to perform with such renowned performers 

as George Shearing, Miles Davis and Sonny Rollins. Although their seemingly sudden 

rise to worldwide fame made it seem as if they appeared virtually out of nowhere, they 

in fact built upon pre-existing structures and support, most of which had been set up in 

previous decades by a few pre-war jazz promoters. In this essay I examine some of the key 

initiatives that facilitated this ‘golden’ generation’s international success, such as the Jazz 

1 This essay is based on a paper presented at the ‘Continental Drift: 50 Years of Jazz from Europe’ conference 

held on 16–17 July 2016 in Edinburgh (UK). My thanks go to Haftor Medbøe and Zack Moir for hosting this 

conference, to my fellow presenters for the lively conversations, to Els Buffel for sharing her unique insights, and 

to Marc Van den Hoof for the rare recordings of Thielemans and the Bob Shots. This research is funded by a 

grant from the Research Programme of the Research Foundation – Flanders (FWO). 



85

86 ‘OUT OF NOWHERE?’: PRE-WAR JAZZ NETWORKS AND THE MAKING OF POST-WAR BELGIAN JAZZ 

Club de Belgique and the amateur jazz contests it hosted, as such revealing the importance 

such networks had on the dissemination and popularisation of jazz in Belgium, not only in 

the Interwar period, but also during the 1940s and 1950s. Furthermore, some of the causes 

and consequences of the narrow focus on these few men will be surveyed as well. Overall, 

this essay is a good introduction to some of the pivotal musicians and intermediaries of 

Belgium’s little known jazz history. 

At the International Festival de Jazz (Paris, May 1949), organised for the second year 

by the influential French intermediary Charles Delaunay, two Belgian bands were billed 

next to such renowned names as Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, and Sidney Bechet: the 

quartet of guitarist/harmonica player Jean-Baptiste ‘Toots’ Thielemans (1922–2016), and 

a septet of youngsters from Liège, the Bob Shots. While Thielemans is arguably the most 

familiar name today, his compatriots were also part of that same post-war generation of exceptionally 

successful Belgian jazz musicians, among them Bob Shots such as tenor saxophonist/flutist 

Robert ‘Bobby’ Jaspar (1926–1963), alto saxophonist Jacques Pelzer (1924– 

1994), vibraphonist ‘Fats’ Sadi Lallemand (1927–2009), and pianist/composer François 

‘Francy’ Boland (1929–2005), or others closely associated with this pivotal band, such as 

guitarist René Thomas (1927–1975). 

After gaining experience on the local Belgian scene, which centred mainly on the urban 

centres of Brussels and Liège, several of them moved to Paris, one of Europe’s hotbeds 

of jazz. Here, they soon became sought-after sideman, not only performing in the French 

capital, but all over the Continent with the likes of Reinhardt, Chet Baker, André Hodeir, 

and Kenny Clarke. By the mid-1950s, some even made it to the other side of the Atlantic: 

Thielemans was a long-time member of the George Shearing Quintet, Thomas recorded 

alongside Rollins, and Jaspar’s horn playing adorned the music of J.J. Johnson, Donald 

Byrd, and Davis. 

Because of their transnational success and subsequent high visibility, most critical and 

scholarly attention has been dedicated to this first post-war generation. A number of Masters 

theses have been written about Thomas, Thielemans, and Jaspar, the latter two are the 

subject of some biographies, and albums featuring them as sideman or leader have been 

regularly reissued, much of their music now readily available, even in online music stores. 2 

The disproportionate attention for this single generation might create the impression that 

jazz in Belgium really began to happen only in the past seventy years, as if these few men 

singlehandedly lay the foundation for the future development of jazz in Belgium, a misconception 

that might even prompt further neglect of pre-war jazz and its performers. Indeed, 

while the names of Thielemans, Jaspar, Thomas and Boland are to a certain extent known 

to a wider public (even if only for their brief tenures with famous artists), those of Stan 

Brenders, Fud Candrix, Jean Omer, and Chas Remue, all leading Belgian bandleaders in 

the Interwar years, are today only remembered by a handful of (often local) aficionados. 

A few other factors possibly further enhanced this post-war generation’s higher visibility, 

as such cementing the idea that pre- and post-war jazz are disconnected entities. One 

such factor is the idea that the Nazi regime banned jazz—with its strong ‘Jewish-Negro’ 

influences certainly very un-Aryan—from the Third Reich’s public sphere during its reign 

(Kater 1992: 20–24). This was to a certain extent true for the Fatherland itself—indeed, 

local jazz musicians were increasingly controlled, censored, and raided, even though the 

2 For these biographies and theses, see for example De Backer & Steenhorst 2009, Riem 1988, Schroeder 

1997, Van Dijck 2001, and Wastiaux 1983. A more extensive bibliography of Belgian jazz can be 

found on http://www.muzikaalerfgoed.be/voor-erfgoedliefhebbers/over-muzikaal-erfgoed/60-muzikaal-erfgoedvan-de-jazz/publicaties/154-de-jazzbiografie

87 

music was never entirely absent from Nazi Germany, despite attempts to forbid it (ibid.: 

passim)—but in occupied Belgium, the Netherlands, and Northern France the situation was 

quite different. 3 Due to a lenient local policy towards jazz, Belgian performers were able to 

remain active throughout the entire occupation. Certainly, often titles were changed (e.g., 

‘At the Jazz Band Ball’ became ‘Bal du Rythme’) and musicians playing in too ‘jazzy’ a 

style might have been fined or banned from the concert stage—although the German authorities 

no doubt had a hard time deciding where those limits lay—but it was relatively 

easy to stage widely promoted concerts with highly visible musicians in major venues, 

as Reinhardt’s appearance with the orchestras of Brenders and Candrix in the Brussels’ 

Palais des Beaux-Arts on 16–18 April of 1942 illustrates. 4 Yet, an overgeneralisation of 

the Nazi’s restriction on jazz within its own borders to the entire Third Reich might lead 

some to believe that jazz in occupied Belgium temporarily disappeared from the public eye, 

which in turn contributed to the idea of the Second World War as a breaking point. As such, 

this cemented the idea that pre- and post-war jazz are disconnected entities, with the war 

neatly separating performers and stylistic approaches from both ends of this time-frame. 

Moreover, some fans and critics might have consciously looked for such a clean break 

with the past. As several Belgian bands remained active during the Second World War, 

some, such as those led by Candrix and Omer, even performing in venues in Berlin, they 

unsurprisingly were seen as collaborators to the Nazi regime. 5 While very few jazz musicians 

were actually convicted in the war trials that were held upon Belgium’s liberation, 

their reputation was tainted, in some instances even ruined, not in the least because many 

jazz fans no longer wished to be associated with them or their music. 6 This might help to 

explain why this once-so-popular generation was soon all but forgotten, whereas Thielemans’s 

generation was embraced fairly fast. 7 

Another level of disjunction might be perceived in terms of stylistic change. As Scott 

DeVeaux (1997: 4) observes, one of the dominant approaches to explaining bebop is 

through the trope of revolution, a ‘sharp break with the past that ushers in something genuinely 

new’. Indeed, bebop was often seen as the start of modern jazz—whatever is meant 

by this vague term—and this post-war generation was the first in Belgium to fully embrace 

to nascent sounds of this new, progressive style. As a result, these men’s perceived musical 

revolution was prioritised in discourses on Belgian jazz, and this to the detriment of 

pre-war evolutions. 

All of the above elements might have contributed to the misconception that Thielemans 

and his peers sprang on the scene virtually out of nowhere, an erroneous assumption as each 

3 For specifics on the Dutch situation, see Wouters 1999. 

4 All public events, including jazz concerts, balls, and tournaments, had to be approved first by the Propaganda 

Abteilung Belgien, which had little objection against permitting jazz manifestations as long as certain rules were 

being observed in regards to repertoire (e.g., no ‘allied’ compositions), style (e.g., no ‘hot’ effects), and content 

(e.g., no English or non-partisan lyrics). Naturally, many of these rules were relatively easy to circumvent, and 

Candrix is even known to having performed ‘In the Mood’ at Berlin’s Delphi Palast on 1 May 1942 (Buffel 2008: 

37). 

5 Buffel 2008 is a good study on the role of many of these musicians and promoters in Nazi-occupied Belgium. 

6 One such tragic case is that of Brenders, who since January 1936 led the jazz orchestra of the N.I.R./I.N.R., 

the Belgian national broadcasting corporation, which he continued to head during the war, now on the Nazified 

Sender Brüssel. However, as he refused to perform outside of Belgium, and was even drafted by a branch of the 

Belgium resistance, he didn’t believe he would be seen as a collaborator. He was arrested, but the court didn’t find 

enough conclusive evidence to convict him. The national broadcasting corporation fired him nonetheless, which 

led a disillusioned Brenders to retreat from musical life altogether. For more on Brenders, see the French-spoken 

documentary Manneken Swing (Julien Bechara, 2015). 

7 As an aside, Sadi took on the artist name ‘Fats’ (after Fats Waller) because his actual name, Lallemand, means 

‘the German’ in French, an association he resented.


new generation at least partially builds on the achievements of the previous one, not only 

in musical terms—technically, creatively or stylistically—but also on the broader levels 

of marketing, media, and management, in brief, the promotional networks surrounding 

the performers. It is one such network I discuss below, one that originates in the pre-war 

years but that had a significant impact on the reception and critical success of the post-war 

generation. 

Jazz Network in Pre-War Belgium Faec, Goffin, and the Jazz Club de Belgique 

Two pivotal figures in this network are the promoter Félix-Robert Faecq (1901–1992), and 

the author Robert Goffin (1898–1984). Both men were pursuing their love for jazz already 

early on: In June 1922, Goffin published an anthology of poems entitled Jazz Band, and 

two years later, in October 1924, Faecq created Musique Magazine, the first Belgian music 

journal to run a weekly column dedicated to jazz. 8 At this time Faecq was already active 

as a sales representative for the British record label Edison Bell Winner as well as several 

American music publishers, such as A.J. Stasny Music Company. In 1925, he founded 

his own record store, Universal Music Store, and publishing company, International Music 

Company. By now he had also changed the name of Musique Magazine to the more international 

sounding Music, a first step towards orienting the journal exclusively towards 

jazz, a transformation that was fully completed by early 1931. Goffin, on the other hand, 

focused in the late 1920s mainly on building up a career as a lawyer, but jazz remained his 

true love. Starting January 1930, a series of his articles on the history of jazz appeared in 

Music which he eventually reworked into a book, published in 1932 under the name Aux 

Frontières du Jazz, the first true study on jazz to appear in Belgium. 

In late 1931, Faecq, Goffin, and a few others decided to form an organization dedicated 

to the promotion of jazz in Belgium, and the idea was presented to Music’s readership in 

March of the following year. The Jazz Club de Belgique, as it was baptised, was officially 

founded in December 1932, its creation formally announced in that month’s edition 

of Music. Its mission was part recreational, for example by holding regular commented 

listening sessions, and part promotional, for example by negotiating more airtime for jazz 

with the public broadcasting corporation. The first initiative by the Jazz Club de Belgique—although 

it really was Faecq who did most of the work—was the organisation of 

the first national competition for amateur jazz bands, held in Brussels in December 1932. 

This edition was so successful that it became a yearly event, and in 1934 the first international 

tournament was held, two years later followed by regional contests all over Belgium. 

These concours soon became highly anticipated events, as each edition was followed by a 

ball sure to attract a crowd of notables and youngsters alike, while celebrated guest artists 

such as Coleman Hawkins were asked to top the bill, with a well-attended jam session 

closing the night. As such these jazz competitions didn’t merely offer budding musicians 

a chance to be discovered—the jury comprised leading artists as well as important critics—but 

also heightened the visibility and popularity of jazz through its pragmatic mix of 

competition, entertainment, socialisation, and performance. 

Music, the Jazz Club de Belgique, and the jazz contests were far from isolated events 

in Europe. Around the same time several such initiatives could be found in many of Belgium’s 

neighbouring countries. France had its now-famed Hot Club de France (November 

8 The history of Musique Magazine, in April 1925 renamed Music, as well as much of Faecq’s career is discussed 

in Heyman 2015.

89 

1932) and the journal Jazz-Tango (October 1930, in December 1931 renamed Jazz-Tango- 

Dancing, next Jazz Hot in March 1935), in the Netherlands De Jazzwereld appeared since 

August 1931, and with the Nederlandsche Hotclub (in 1935 renamed the Nederlandsche 

Jazz Liga), it had its own promotional organ since March 1933. Slightly later, in July 1933, 

No. 1 Rhythm Club was founded in London, as such being the first such hot club in the 

United Kingdom, while magazines dedicating space to jazz already existed since January 

1926 (The Melody Maker) and December 1927 (Rhythm). Several other countries sooner 

or later had their own jazz magazines and hot clubs, but also jazz (or dance band) competitions 

were regularly held, with known examples from the United Kingdom (as early 

as March 1925), the Netherlands and Austria (both December 1931), and France (not until 

February 1937). 9 These parallels were not coincidental, as many of the key figures 

in each nation’s hot club were in close contact with one another, taking inspiration from 

each other and occasionally working together. Take for example Music, which through 

an entente with several foreign jazz journals offered its readership the possibility to easily 

(and cheaply) subscribe to such magazines as De Jazzwereld, Jazz-Tango, and the Swiss 

Jazz. A more concrete type of such cooperation occurred on the level of the international 

jazz tournaments. Between 1934 and 1938, Belgium and the Netherlands co-jointly organised 

several such tournaments, attracting contenders from both countries, but also from 

the United Kingdom, France, and Switzerland. Moreover, ever since the second national 

competition, in November 1933, the jury always comprised members from outside of Belgium 

as well, selected from the pan-European network Faecq and Goffin were gradually 

building up, such as the editors of De Jazzwereld or Rhythm, and prominent musicians 

such as French violinist Stéphane Grappelli or Dutch pianist Theo Uden Masman. Finally, 

in 1939, the Jazz Club de Belgique was in close contact with its British pendant in order to 

plan a yearly continental contest alternately held in Europe’s capitals. Unfortunately, this 

never materialised as it soon became clear that yet another war in Europe was unavoidable. 

A War on Two Fronts: Old vs New Hot Clubs 

On the 10th of May 1940, Nazi Germany successfully circumvented the Maginot Line, 

France’s main defence line against Germany, by waltzing through Belgium in a mere eighteen 

days, as such violating the nation’s neutral status. As noted before, the German occupation 

only had a limited impact on Belgium’s jazz scene. While it was certainly necessary 

to be cautious about expressing admiration for Jewish and African-American performers, it 

was still possible to attend jazz concerts, to hear regular broadcasts of Brenders’ band and 

others on Sender Brüssel, and to join meetings of the hot clubs and many of its activities, 

such as the jazz tournoi. 10 

Yet, this doesn’t mean that there were no consequences at all. Faecq, who as early as 

1933 had criticized the Nazi regime’s cultural policy in an article for Music, decided to fold 

the magazine in order to avoid any restrictions on its content, and its final issue appeared 

at the end of 1939. It wasn’t until January 1945 that another jazz journal, L’Actualité Musicale 

was launched, leaving Belgian jazz fans without a trusted periodical for four years. 

Something else they had to do without was the expert guidance of Goffin, who, given his 

9 For more information on these magazines, the hot clubs, and the competitions, see Heyman 2015. 

10 Such concerts were often billed as ‘modern’, ‘rhythmic’, or ‘dance’ music, but also the word ‘jazz’ was still 

prominently seen in advertisements since it was considered an international term by the Propaganda Abteilung. 

‘Swing’ and ‘hot’, however, were avoided as they were deemed ‘American’ (Buffel 2008: 63).


open status as an anti-fascist (not only against the NSDAP, but also against the local Rexist 

Party), fled Belgium upon its invasion. He lived in exile in the United States for the duration 

of the war, striking up a friendship with another European jazz promoter, the Brit Leonard 

Feather. Together the pair organised several lecture series and produced events such as the 

now-famed Esquire Jazz concerts. Goffin returned to Belgium in 1945, but as the newer 

styles began to emerge, his interest in jazz gradually waned, leading him to pursue his other 

interests, such as poetry, instead. The most drastic consequence of the German occupation 

was the shift in power balance, in effect causing the diminishing influence of Faecq and the 

Jazz Club de Belgique. A few other hot clubs, many of which limited themselves to pure 

recreational activities, already existed before the war, such as Sweet & Hot (1932), Swing 

& Rhythm (1936), and the Cotton Club de Belgique (1937), but the Jazz Club de Belgique 

was the most prominent and active club, with regional sections throughout the country and 

close contacts with sister hot clubs from abroad (Buffel 2008: 50). In 1942, another hot 

club, the Club Rythmique de Belgique, began to monopolise the organisation of virtually 

all jazz events in Belgium, and in no time gained the upper hand, drawing members into 

the thousands, as such bringing the Jazz Club de Belgique close to the brink of extinction. 

The difficulties began well before the war. Around 1938, several members of the Jazz 

Club de Belgique’s regional section of Brussels grew discontent with what they perceived 

as too strong a focus on so-called white, commercialised forms of jazz, and this to the detriment 

of the more authentic, black forms. The same ‘hot vs sweet’ discussion that eventually 

led in part to the fierce strife between Delaunay and Hugues Panassié, the founding 

fathers of the Hot Club de France, also affected the Jazz Club de Belgique. On 1 April 

1939, several leaders of the Brussels section, among them Willy de Cort (1914–2002), Albert 

Bettonville (1916–2000), and Baron Carlos de Radzitzky d’Ostrowick (1915–1985), 

created their own club, the Hot Club de Belgique (Pernet 2001). The club grew steadily, 

and during the occupation de Cort, who presided over the new hot club, changed its name 

to the Club Rythmique de Belgique in order to avoid difficulties with the local Propaganda 

Abteilung. He clearly held high ambitions for the club, as by the end of 1941, he allied 

himself and his hot club with Antoine Jongenelen, AKA Tony Young, an up-and-coming 

impresario determined to take over the organisational dominance held by Faecq. 

Sometime before, Jongenelen had approached Faecq with a proposition to cooperate 

since the former had good contacts within the Propaganda Abteilung Belgien, a benefit 

that would give them virtually free reign to organise any jazz event they wanted (Buffel 

2008: 80). However, Faecq refused, likely for ideological reasons (Jongenelen, originally 

from the Netherlands, was a member of the Dutch fascist party Nationaal-Socialistische 

Beweging), but also because thus far he had been able to stage all events without intervention 

from inside the local German authorities (ibid.). 11 As a result, a resentful Jongenelen 

sided with some of Faecq’s former associates, all of which had their own reasons to thwart 

him. De Cort, for example, sought to increase the prestige and membership numbers of his 

own Club Rythmique, often with questionable methods. When Faecq booked the Palais 

des Beaux-Arts for the second war-time edition of the Jazz Club de Belgique’s jazz contest, 

on 7 November 1942, de Cort planned the Club Rythmique’s tournament on the exact 

same day and location, pulling strings with the Propaganda Abteilung (possibly through 

Jongenelen) to force the administration of the Palais des Beaux-Arts to transfer the rental 

contract to him (ibid.: 93–94). Faecq found himself without a location, and had to cancel 

the entire event. 

11 Up until 1942, events staged by Faecq, often acting for the Jazz Club de Belgique, seem to have been routinely 

approved.

91 

Jongenelen too successfully challenged Faecq’s position. On 31 December 1941, the 

latter was arrested by the Gestapo for some minor infractions (such as the possession of a 

series of publicity shots of ‘Jewish’, read: Benny Goodman, and African-American jazz 

musicians), and upon his release three weeks later, he was prohibited from further organising 

public concerts, at least under his own name (ibid.: 81–84). 12 This opened the door 

to Jongenelen, who by early 1942 seems to have been considered Belgium’s ‘official’ jazz 

promoter by the German military command (Belgium had a Militärverwaltung instead of 

a Zivilverwaltung, as in the Netherlands for example), in effect acting as an intermediary 

between the artists and the Propaganda Abteilung, a position that allowed him to block 

as many events by the Jazz Club de Belgique as possible (ibid.: 80–81). On 7 November 

1942, the local Brussels section—the very same section from which a dissident group had 

seceded in 1939—reported that nearly all activity had dried up as the result of ‘the monopolisation 

of the “Rhythmic” Club’s concert organisation’, in effect rendering it ‘theoretically 

and practically impossible for us to organise concerts’ (anon. 1942). 13 By mid-1942, Jongenelen, 

de Cort and the Club Rythmique de Belgique held a near-exclusive monopoly 

on the Belgian jazz scene, and Faecq and the Jazz Club de Belgique no longer played a 

significant role during the war years. 

Jazz Networks in Post-War Belgium: Bettonville, de Radzitzky, and the Hot 

Club de Belgique 

Little less than three months after D-Day, the allied forces reached Belgium, and the nation’s 

government, which was in exile in the United Kingdom, was reinstated on 8 September 

1944. 14 Soon several of the important actors of the Belgian jazz scene, including de 

Cort and Jongenelen, found themselves arrested and put to trail during the post-war repression 

against collaboration. Whether they were actually convicted is unknown as the 

files of these military tribunals are still classified, but Jongenelen seems to have completely 

disappeared from the jazz scene afterwards. De Cort, on the other hand, continued to lead 

the Club Rythmique, now again under its original name, the Hot Club de Belgique, until at 

least the mid-1950s. Unfortunately, Faecq and the Jazz Club de Belgique, fared less well. 

They never recovered from the sudden coup d’état by de Cort and the Club Rythmique de 

Belgique, and although Faecq remained active within the music business, he never truly 

regained the pivotal position he had once held. Also, the Jazz Club de Belgique, which 

he led until his death in 1992, was no longer an organisation of substance, with far less 

members than the Hot Club, and no activities to speak of. 

Bettonville and de Radzitzky, formerly members of the Jazz Club de Belgique and now 

on the board of the Hot Club de Belgique, stepped into this void. Both had already been 

active before the war, for example through presenting radio programs on jazz, or writing, 

taking cues from their main mentor Goffin, but it wasn’t until after the war that they began 

to emerge as Belgium’s principal intermediaries. While seemingly never directly involved 

in Jongenelen’s economic collaboration or de Cort’s (at times) unethical scheming, they, 

together with the latter, continued the Hot Club’s activities by regularly organising concerts 

12 Officially speaking, the Jazz Club de Belgique could still organise events, such as the yearly competitions, 

provided they were permitted by the German authorities. 

13 Translation by the author. 

14 The liberation wasn’t truly completed until February 1945, when the last German troops retreated from Belgium 

following the so-called Battle of the Bulge.


and contests, as well as taking over several of the tasks Faecq had once managed, such as 

publishing a national jazz journal that also acted as the house organ of the Hot Club. 15 In 

1948, the pair came up with a new initiative. Between 14 and 17 August, Bettonville and 

de Radzitzky staged the Festival Européen du Jazz in Ostend and Knokke, two popular 

Belgian seaside resorts. Such a jazz festival was not a first. Earlier that year, Panassié and 

Delaunay, France’s chief promoters, had separately organised the very first truly international 

jazz festivals, Panassié in February in Nice, and Delaunay in May in Paris. In all 

three instances, Belgium was represented by budding, post-war jazz musicians stemming 

from a generation that was among the first in Europe to focus on the progressive sounds 

coming from across the Atlantic: Thielemans and the men from the Bob Shots. Their 

participation to these festivals would prove to be a decisive moment in their early careers. 

Both had roots in earlier jazz styles. Around 1944, the Bob Shots arose from the remnants 

of a Dixieland/swing combo called Session d’une Heure, and in 1946, Thielemans 

briefly played guitar in the big band of famed swing trumpeter Robert De Kers. But as the 

first 78 discs carrying the sounds of so-called modern jazz reached Belgium, they became 

converts almost immediately. One such disc is ‘Oop Bop Sh’Bam’, which was recorded by 

its composer, Dizzy Gillespie, on 15 May 1946, with more renditions to follow by Kenny 

Clarke, then an ex-pat in France (5 September), and Billy Eckstine’s orchestra (5 October). 

A few months later, on 10 February 1947, the Bob Shots waxed their own version, including 

oddly altered vocals, the original ‘a klook-a-mop’ replaced by ‘a-mic a-mac’. 16 While 

by no means a masterpiece, it does show how eager the Belgian combo was on adopting the 

new bebop sounds. 17 That they were able to learn this and other bop tunes (later compositions 

would include Tadd Dameron’s ‘Our Delight’, Parker’s ‘Relaxin’ At Camarillo’ and 

Monk’s ‘Thelonious’) fairly fast was because Robert’s brother, who resided in the United 

States, sent over such 78s the moment they were released (Schroeder 2004: disc 2). While 

this lucky coincidence helped them absorb bebop much faster than most other Belgian 

bands, it didn’t produce any performance opportunities. For this, they still relied primarily 

on pre-existing initiatives with roots in the pre-war jazz scene. Indeed, their breakthrough 

can be largely attributed to the amateur jazz contests that have been held nearly every year 

since 1932. 

They won their first victory at the Hot Club de Belgique’s national jazz competition on 

28 September 1946, at that time still with a swing-oriented repertoire, but one year later, at 

the Championnat International de Jazz, they convinced a jury comprising Bettonville and 

de Radzitzky to give them the first prize, now with a largely ‘boppish’ repertoire, including 

Gillespie’s ‘Night in Tunisia’ and Howard McGhee’s ‘Up in Dodo’s Room’. The Bob 

Shots impressed both promoters so deeply that it soon became the unofficial house band 

15 From March to November 1945, Bettonville and de Radzitzky were the chief editors of Jazz, which in January 

1946 transformed into Hot Club Magazine (Henceval 1991: 36). This journal was discontinued after August 

1948, but between November 1948 and October 1956, the Hot Club continued to inform its members with a 

two-page inlay in the French Jazz Hot (ibid.). 

16 ‘Mic mac’ denotes a mess in the local dialect from Liège, the hometown of many of the Bob Shots (Schroeder 

1997: 131). Unfortunately, this and all other records by the Bob Shots have not been reissued as of yet. 

17 The Bob Shots, named after two of the key members’ nicknames, Jaspar and founder/guitarist Pierre Robert, 

had several members throughout its brief existence (July 1945 to mid-1949), but its core personnel comprised 

the two Bobby’s, Pelzer, trumpeter Jean Bourguignon, and by 1946, Sadi as well. Some, such as Thomas and 

Thielemans, were never officially part of the band, but they belonged to their inner circle of friends and were 

known to frequently jam with them (leading some to mistake them for a Bob Shot).

93 

of the Hot Club de Belgique, with performances at concerts hosted by the club and raving 

reviews regularly appearing in Hot Club Magazine. 18 

Another favourite of these Belgian intermediaries was Thielemans, who had followed 

another trajectory than the Bob Shots. A genuine Brusseleir, he was right at the centre of 

the Belgian jazz scene, partaking many jam sessions and freelancing with various bands 

ranging from duos with accordion, to large dance orchestras. Most importantly, he already 

early on acquainted Bettonville and de Radzitzky, who recognized his prodigious talent 

and strong will to carve out a musical career. Furthermore, Thielemans was immediately 

drawn to bebop, and quickly assimilated many of its characteristic into his own style. In the 

eyes of both intermediaries, this made him another ideal candidate to represent Belgium at 

the various international festivals. 

1948 saw the start of a series of international jazz festivals: In February Panassié organised 

the very first such festival in Nice, which was followed upon a mere three months 

later in Paris, hosted by Delaunay, by now in fierce competition with his former friend. A 

similar jazz festival was put on that same summer in Ostend and Knokke by Bettonville 

and de Radzitzky. Unfortunately, the following year the Nice edition was disbanded—it 

wasn’t held for another 23 years—but Delaunay managed to stage a second, yet also final 

edition of the Paris festival, the Festival International de Jazz, now best remembered for 

the European debut of luminaries such as Parker and Davis. 

On all these occasions the program featured a mix of international jazz performers, with 

bands from the United Kingdom, Switzerland, Italy, France, the Netherlands, and Belgium, 

and, in the case of the French festivals, several high-profile American musicians, such as 

Louis Armstrong (Nice 1948), Hawkins (Paris 1948), and Parker (Paris 1949). As the 

Knokke and Ostend jazz festival were organised by the Hot Club de Belgique, the Bob 

Shots were automatically programmed, but for the French festivals, the hot clubs of the 

represented European countries were asked to send their best. Most went for a traditional 

pick, with for example the Netherlands being represented by the Dutch Swing College 

Band, and the United Kingdom by trumpeter Humphrey Lyttelton, but with the Bob Shots 

and Thielemans, Bettonville and de Radzitzky sent out Belgium’s first true bop formations, 

and while not of the level of Parker, Davis, Kenny Dorham or James Moody (all present 

in Paris 1949), they certainly captured the spirit of this progressive music very well, as 

evidenced by the sides they recorded while in Paris for the 1949 festival. 

For the young Belgians their participation to these festivals proved to be a decisive moment 

in their careers, in particular the Paris 1949 edition, for, as an unexpected bonus, 

Delaunay invited them to record several sides for the French label Pacific, the result being 

a valuable ‘invitation card’ to hand to prospective promoters. 19 Within three years, Thielemans 

had left for the United States, and never looked back. The Bob Shots, on the other 

hand, went their individual ways. In May 1949, the band had in fact already disbanded, 

and it was only because this festival offered too good an opportunity to miss that they 

18 In fact, they not only impressed the jury. When word got out they were planning on participating to the 1948 

regional tournament in Liège, de Cort, whose Hot Club de Belgique staged these tournoi, asked them to refrain 

from participating as they scared away other potential contenders. Instead, they were offered a concert outside 

of the competition as well as their automatic selection for the next national contest, both of which they didn’t 

pursue. 

19 The sessions for Pacific took place in Paris on the 13th of May 1949. The Bob Shots waxed a total of twelve 

tracks, six tunes with two takes each, and Thielemans and his trio (billed as Toots Thielemans’ Quartet [sic] du 

Hot Club de Belgique) recorded eight tracks, four tunes with two takes each (Pernet 1999/2004, 82 & 658). For 

both, these were their first truly commercially released records under their own name. While reissued on the 

British Nixa label in the early 1950s, these sides are today no longer readily available.


decided too hastily reunite. Now, it split for good as some members (Pelzer) decided to 

stay in Belgium, whereas others (Jaspar, Sadi) tried to build up a career in Europe’s most 

vibrant jazz capital, Paris. They were soon joined by other ambitious Belgians, such as 

Thomas and Boland, and formed a Belgian ‘colony’ in high demand with the city’s top 

performers. A few years later, in the mid-1950s, Jaspar and Thomas decided even Paris 

was too small for them, and went trans-Atlantic. Together with Thielemans, they were the 

very first Belgians to (partially) built up a career in the United States. While it was their 

technical prowess and musical imagination that made them such excellent musicians, it 

was the support provided by Bettonville, de Radzitzky, and the Hot Club de Belgique that 

enabled them to be discovered internationally, as such truly launching their careers. This 

support, mainly through structures such as trade journals and jazz tournaments, had been 

set up in earlier decades by the previous generation of promoters, Faecq, Goffin, and the 

Jazz Club de Belgique. As such, it is fair to say that the post-war Belgian jazz scene was 

at least partially created by the pre-war networks. 

While this essay only focused on one specific milieu within one specific time frame, 

similar situations undoubtedly occurred elsewhere as well, especially considering the fact 

that many of the key components of the described Belgian network, such as the promoters, 

the hot clubs, the jazz magazines, the contests, and the festivals, could sooner or later be 

found in other countries as well. Take for example the role men such as John Hammond or 

Norman Granz played in the careers of many American (jazz) musicians, or how Django 

Reinhardt was brought to international fame through his association with the Hot Club de 

France. While these specific examples are well documented, more research is needed to 

reveal the role played by other promoters, their activities, and the network they belonged 

to, in disseminating jazz, in popularising the genre and its performers, and in helping to 

build up a regional, national, or international music scene. 

Naturally, some other pivotal aspects that enhanced the successful rise of certain artists, 

bands, or styles, such as the radio, the publishing companies, the record industry, and 

the general press, are for the sake of space not included in this discussion. While these 

certainly played a role in the emergence of Thielemans and the Bob Shots, these were of 

lesser importance. However, in other instances such promotional tools are worth surveying 

as well as these too might help to explain the critical success of certain musicians or styles. 

Overall, I hope to have illuminated the importance such a broad and solid pre-war network 

had on Belgium’s national post-war jazz scene, not only in terms of the personal 

careers of a few individuals, but also on a broader scale. For it would be Thielemans, 

Jaspar, Thomas, and their peers that became the first truly widely known jazz musicians 

to emerge from Belgium, as such putting this tiny Western-European nation on the global 

jazz map. 

References 

Anonymous. 1942. ‘Rapport de la Section de Bruxelles.’ From the Robert Pernet Fund, 

Musical Instruments Museum, Brussels. 

Buffel, Els. 2008. ‘Jazz Als Protest? Een Onderzoek Naar de Toonaangevende 

Organisatoren van Jazzevenementen en Orkestleiders in Bezet België (1940–1944).’ Mas-

95 

ter’s Thesis, Universiteit Gent. 

De Backer, Peter, and René Steenhorst. 2012. Toots 90. Gent: Borgerhoff & Lamberigts. 

DeVeaux, Scott. 1997. The Birth of Bebop: A Social and Musical History. Berkeley: 

University of California Press. 

Emile Henceval (ed.). 1991. Dictionnaire du Jazz à Bruxelles et en Wallonie. Liège: Pierre 

Mardaga. 

Heyman, Matthias. 2015. ‘Music (1924-1939): A History of Belgium’s First Jazz Journal’. 

Current Research in Jazz 7. http://www.crj-online.org/v7/CRJ-BelgiumJazzJournal.php 

Kater, Michael H. 1992. Different Drummers: Jazz in the Culture of Nazi Germany. New 

York: Oxford University Press. 

Pernet, Robert. 1999. Belgian JAZZ Discography. Brussels: Robert Pernet (self-produced). 

Reprint by the Musical Instruments Museum, Brussels, 2004. 

. 2001. ‘Hot Club de Belgique.’ The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz, 2nd ed. 

Grove Music Online. Accessed July 29, 2016. http://www.grovemusic.com 

Riem, Geert. 1988. ‘Toots Thielemans (1922): Bijdrage tot de Geschiedenis van de Jazz 

in België’. Master’s Thesis, Catholic University of Leuven. 

Schroeder, Jean-Pol. 1997. Bobby Jaspar: Itinéraires d’un Jazzman Européen, 1926-1963. 

Sprimont: Pierre Mardaga. 

(ed.). 2004. ‘L’ére des Bob Shots.’ Histoire(s) du Jazz à Liège: Tèmoignages, 

Documents, Musique. Liège: La Maison du Jazz, compact disc. 

Van Dijck, Mimi. 2001. ‘Bobby Jaspar’. Master’s Thesis, Catholic University of Leuven. 

Wastiaux, Albert. 1983. ‘Certains Aspects sur le Langage Musical de René Thomas, Guitariste 

Belge’. Master’s Thesis, Free University of Brussels. 

Wouters, Kees C.A.T.M. 1999. ‘Ongewenschte Muziek: De Bestrijding van Jazz en Moderne 

Amusementsmuziek in Duitsland and Nederland, 1920–1945’. PhD Diss., Universiteit 

van Amsterdam. 


Heyman, M. (2017) ’Out of Nowhere?’: Pre-war jazz networks and the making of post-war 

Belgian jazz, in Medbøe, H., Moir, Z., and Atton, C. (eds), Continental Drift: 50 years of 

jazz from Europe, Edinburgh, Continental Drift Publishing, 85–96.



Matthias Heyman is currently finalising his PhD research at the University of Antwerp 

in affiliation with the Royal Antwerp Conservatoire, where he obtained his MA in Jazz 

Performance (Double Bass). In his research he seeks to contextualise the bass playing of 

Ellingtonian Jimmie Blanton (1918-1942). In 2011, Matthias led a research project on 

Belgian jazz heritage, and he continues to specialise in his country’s jazz history. He is 

also active as a freelance double bassist, and is a lecturer of jazz history at the Jazz Studio 

(Antwerp), the LUCA School of Arts (Leuven), and the University and Conservatory of 

Amsterdam (the Netherlands). Matthias has published in journals such as Journal of Jazz 

Studies and Current Research in Jazz, besides presenting at several international conferences.

CONTINENTAL DRIFT

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