You remember in last week's Episode 5: God Made Jazz – The Role of the Church in the Development of Jazz, where a particular Church Deac...
You remember in last week's Episode 5: God Made Jazz – The Role of the Church in the Development of Jazz, where a particular Church Deacon asked me the same question because of the 'Tone of My Voice'.
In that episode, I also talked about the two gossips from the church who informed my Pastor about me singing at a lounge, and how my Pastor at the time never came to see me perform at that lounge (even though I had extended an invitation).
So, allow me to share some details about the specific lounge we're discussing, followed by another location.
This lounge was situated in the same upscale neighborhood as the church I attended, mentioned in last week's episode. Its live jazz performances typically ran from around 7:30 pm to 10:30 pm. How I cherished its cozy yet expansive atmosphere.
A bar is located in one corner of the lounge area, while the stage is placed on a raised platform that faces the guests' seating area within the lounge; additionally, the venue's acoustics were a treat for singers.
A spiral staircase rose up to the managers' offices, connecting to a balcony where one could observe the audience below, enjoying each other's company, sipping wine, and indulging in gourmet meals. Indeed, it was a lounge of that sort located in the heart of Accra—luxury and elegance were its defining characteristics!
Once I had the chance to meet with the management in their office upstairs, and after our discussion, I went to the balcony area, gazing down at the seats and stylish cocktail bar, picturing myself in a Broadway theater from the 1950s, dressed in a sleek, long, black satin evening gown, matching long gloves, and with hair styled in a pin-up fashion, one hand holding a microphone as I gave my finest performance of the Jazz Standard "Summertime." "Ah...if only this could be!"
I envisioned, after a brief moment of daydreaming (or whatever it was called at 7PM). I was brought back to reality by the sounds coming from the sound check happening below me. The singer the lounge had hired was downstairs "...testing one two, microphone checking," and her pianist was also playing some amazing chords on the venue's electric piano. Without seeing the instrument, one might mistake it for a full-sized Grand Piano because of its perfect tone generated by the weighted keys. And the pianist playing that day truly knew how to play.
Actually, I had just come from a meeting with the venue's general manager, who delivered the disappointing news that I had contacted the management a bit later than the other singer, so they had chosen her instead. He still invited me to join the audience and watch the singer's performance, which I happily accepted. It was after this meeting that I found myself on the balcony, briefly imagining something far less ambitious than performing at this venue. No...with the kind of atmosphere around the balcony area, my imagination carried me all the way to Broadway, The Apollo Theatre, Carnegie Hall, and similar iconic places.
The jazz performance started exactly at 7:30 PM. The vocalist was breathtaking, and the pianist was exceptionally skilled. I sat with the general manager at a table near but not too close to the stage, and I really enjoyed the show, along with the complimentary drinks and appetizers I received. The singer performed outstanding versions of some jazz songs I recognized, so I naturally hummed along or softly sang a few lines. I didn't stay until the end of the show, said goodbye to the general manager, and thanked him for meeting with me, even though they weren't planning to hire my singing.
I moved on and stopped thinking about the venue, until a few days later when I got a call from the same general manager, which I still find astonishing and can't quite define to this day. The phone call went something like this:
G.M:Hello Yomi, how are you? You're doing well?
Me:( full of excitement and surprise) I'm doing very well, thank you. And thank you for the other day.
GM:Sure, here's a paraphrased version of your text: "Regarding the other day, after the performance, the singer's manager approached me to express the singer's dissatisfaction. She felt that you were singing at the same time she was, which wasn't allowed. They wanted me to inform you not to sing while she was performing. They were quite upset."
Me:(Shock and bewilderment) Sir, I'm not sure I understand. How did my humming and soft singing impact the other performer? I didn't think they could actually hear me, and you were sitting next to me, so you know my singing was very quiet. Plus, I didn't stay for the entire show.
GM:That's also what I believed. I'm surprised the singer complained to her manager about you, and the manager then brought it to my attention.
Me:Should I apologize to them, or what is expected of me, considering I won't be returning there?
GM:Oh no, that's not the reason I called you. You see, after their complaints, the management began to wonder what it is about Yomi's singing that would cause another singer, whom we believed was already established and well-known, to feel threatened?
Me: (No response)
GM:So the management has chosen to provide you with your own time slots at the Lounge. This implies that you will take turns each week with the other singer.
Following that phone call, I experienced a blend of surprise, bewilderment, and naturally, appreciation for the chance. To be honest, I had simply headed to the mentioned lounge after spotting their street sign that suggested it was a Jazz venue. I had no knowledge that they had already hired a singer. I was truly appreciating the other singer's performance and had no desire to take her place or overshadow her. Moreover, I had already provided the general manager with a demo of my singing featuring an original song called "Mojuba." He had already informed me that the other singer was more well-known and popular than I was, even though I possessed more technical skills. Therefore, I had nothing left to demonstrate to the management or anyone else.
The GM explicitly mentioned that if the singer and her manager hadn't raised concerns about me, the management probably wouldn't have taken me into account. The management team consisted of foreigners (non-Ghanaians), and their view of the present situation was impartial.
I'm certain you'd be interested in hearing about what occurred on the day of my first performance at that Lounge. I'll tell you about it at a later time. I promise you, the experience was quite fascinating. However, let me take you a few years forward to another lounge located in a lively, high-end area of Accra known as Osu. To be honest, unlike the other singer, I would do anything to have the audience singing or humming along with me during my performance instead of receiving cold stares and "dirty looks".
Another lounge was run by a Ghanaian couple who had just come back from the U.S., specifically New York; therefore, they favored Jazz performances. I had played there a few times before with a small band consisting of a keyboardist and a saxophonist. On this particular Saturday night dedicated to Jazz, the place had improved lighting since its outdoor open-air area was located on the rooftop of a three-story commercial building near the newly installed street lights.
This indicated that I could observe the faces of my audience—each expression, every subtle detail, smile, frown, and even "disapproving glances." "What a significant enhancement compared to earlier performances at this venue," I thought while performing, as the dim lighting previously concealed the audience's faces during the night.
I could clearly see the happy faces of people enjoying the music, but in the middle of this, there was a young man who sat rigidly on his seat, looking at me with a cold expression that combined annoyance and disapproval. At that moment, I was grateful for my professional training, which had taught me how to interpret body language and facial expressions.
The expression on this man's face brought back memories of the looks I used to get from fair-skinned women whenever I entered a room where they had already been, as the focal point of attention. It also reminded me of the expressions I had observed on the faces of certain singers while I was performing on stage—perhaps they believed I couldn't see them. However, I have always integrated into my stage performance the practice of observing the audience, noting their reactions to my act, and assessing how they received the music. This has significantly improved my performance and led to many praises and favorable reviews from the audience.
So if this young man was not a fair-skinned woman nor a singer, what had caused his cold glances, rigid body language, and dirty looks...? Hmm. I gave him more attention than usual while performing, as I wanted to figure out what his problem was. As I kept looking at him, it suddenly dawned on me that I had seen his face on TV, music videos, and tabloids. Alas! He was indeed a singer, one of Ghana's well-known Highlife artists.
But that didn't account for the cold look and disapproving glances. As a Highlife musician, he wasn't interested in any music that even slightly resembled mine, unlike the other singers I mentioned earlier. So I started to come up with theories. He was aware it was a Jazz Night; if he disliked Jazz, why did he come? Or maybe he was expecting it to be one of those diluted Jazz shows found at other places, where highly skilled musicians would perform jazz versions of Highlife songs, with one of the young man's tracks being included, especially when the musicians spotted him in the audience.
Alternatively, he might have anticipated encountering only skilled musicians or instrumentalists whom he could subsequently recruit into his group, and was let down to find that the central attraction of this Jazz evening was a female vocalist performing authentic Jazz, which he either couldn't connect with or chose not to.
Alternatively, he might have believed that Jazz music was not authentic to Ghanaian culture and that the event should have showcased Highlife music instead. Naturally, I ceased maintaining eye contact with him as it wasn't boosting my confidence. The young man, a Highlife performer, eventually left during the middle of my performance.
Keep an eye out for the next section where we explore the characteristics of a Jazz singer and the art of vocal Jazz.
>>>Me and My Jazz are the weekly reflections of Jazz Singer and Jazz Radio Host, Yomi Sower. Her show Maximum Jazz is broadcast every Saturday from 4 to 7 PM on Ghana's Guide Radio 91.5FM. She is a Professional Voice Coach who also provides Vocal Jazz Lessons at @YomiSower – Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, X and E-mail:yomisower@gmail.com
Provided by SyndiGate Media Inc. (Syndigate.info).
