Djarum Super Jamz Jazz Tour brings real jazz to music lover
By Sean Cole
JAKARTA (JP): There is nothing like jazz. Unlike many of its sister music styles, jazz returns music to its stature as a true art form -- equal to great literature, dance, theater, sculpture, etc. -- a method of total expression, an attempt to capture the essence of living.
It was once said that dance is unlike other art forms in that it is "no longer translation, it is life." But the same can be said for jazz, especially when witnessed in live performance.
As with any discipline, not all jazz artists are able to bring their work to a height at which others may benefit from it. Some, like jugglers, may astound us with technical prowess but lack the heart to truly carry an audience.
Thankfully, there is the Djarum Super Jamz Jazz Tour '94, and its denizens, Indra Lesmana Java Jazz and the Jakarta All-Stars. They proved last Friday night at the Hotel Borobudur Inter.Continental that there is still hope for excellence in every corner of the world.
Surprisingly, the Flores Room where the event took place was virtually empty. Only about 100 participants came out, although there was room for three times that many.
The evening began late and many drifted away soon after the second set began. But jazz is an addiction for some, and those with an insatiable thirst for the innovative creations bursting from the stage hung on until the very end.
Indra Lesmana's group was first and started the evening without any introduction. Instead, the crowd was drawn in by the drone of Australian percussionist Ron Reeves playing didgeridoo. The sounds heightened and were joined by Lesmana's synthesizer and the counterpoints of Embong Raharjo on alto sax.
Finally, the didgeridoo faded off and the whole boiling mixture blew into flowing jazz. Soon, both Raharjo and Lesmana threw themselves unrestrained into their solos, grooving higher and higher into fits of rapid, ecstatic notes, swarming all over the keys.
The gradual build from quiet meditation to expansive crescendo is a standard for Java Jazz. Another standard is a rich and organic, almost aboriginal, quality that bears a similar effect to witnessing wild nature. In every song, there is the initial build, the standard theme, and then at least two or three further crescendos until the end is reached with a satisfying crash.
Packed within this loose structure, the patterns swim with an array of colors: inviting, purifying and persistent.
Asian roots
Java Jazz, like most modern jazz groups, seem to draw from many influences.
One tune, especially, smacked of very traditional Asian roots, with Raharjo playing piccolo and drummer Cendy Luntungan sounding his Chinese cymbal. For The Seeker, guitarist Dewa Bujana utilized both a wahwah pedal and a whammy bar, making his fingers seem, at all times, a beat ahead of each note.
Lesmana's wife, Sophia Latjuba, matched the themes of some songs with a mellifluous and tribal voice, somewhat reminiscent to Latin jazz great Tanya Maria.
The high point of the second set was probably the dueling of drum solos between Reeves and Luntungan, in which Reeves brought out every instrument from his conga to a nose flute. The two brought their rhythms back into the general theme with the sheerest grace.
The audience's attention did not falter for an instant.
Raharjo and Lesmana often gave each other knowing glances, aware of the power and magic of each moment as it passed through their instruments. Witnessing the communication between musicians is as fun as hearing their music.
Funk and Blues
When the All-Stars came out in the second set, the crowd shifted a little closer to the edges of their chairs. Here, Embong Raharjo seemed even more in his element than he was with Lesmana's band.
Even before the initial note, his face betrayed what was coming. Sure enough, the deep grooves of the first tune were dripping with funk on a bed of blues.
If Lesmana's Java Jazz was a morning in the rain forest, the Jakarta All-Stars were a night's cruise through urban Jakarta. All the players, bassist Jeffery T (who had also played bass for Java Jazz) Raharjo, Rashidi, Luntungan, guitarist Kiboud Maulana and percussionist Aji Rao, bopped and swayed to a much grittier, naughtier, more streamlined sound than the one that had preceded it.
They offered a thrilling display of pure, uncut blues, roaming up and down the fingerboard to cries of "Yeah!" and "Manis! (Sweet!)" from the seats in back.
The All-Stars seemed to be capable of handling anything, from funk-based jazz to blues to tunes with seemingly Latin undertones, to tunes with definite big-band overtones to the same organic approach that Lesmana took in the set before.
The overall highlight of the evening was probably Raharjo himself. With the cool, quiet, though electrified, reserve of any great leader, he stood behind every note.
The same thing that has been said about seminal artists Wayne Shorter and John Coltrane can be said about Raharjo: he plays "like scrambled eggs."
But as was said of Shorter when he got his start with the Miles Davis Quintet of the sixties, "It's the way he scrambles them eggs!"
For someone so mild and still when he is not playing, Raharjo puts out each of his solos from the bottoms of his shoes. Yet, while blowing crazy, frantic patterns, he never falters or loses touch with the overall democracy of the music.
The show would have been more than worth seeing if only for Raharjo's intensity. But, to the delight of the audience, he was not the only reason to attend.
Friday night's explosion ended appropriately with almost all members of both bands doing a jam session together. Even with eight musicians on stage, the communication was high, the connection was lively and the enjoyment of all was unmistakable.
Indra Lesmana Java Jazz and the Jakarta All-Stars passed through the Borobudur on their way to Atma Jaya University (Saturday afternoon). Soon they will represent Indonesia in the North Sea Jazz festival in Holland.
The show proved there are still artists within our reach who are versed in the true meaning of jazz.