Sunday March 26 was a day to be glued to a screen where the Final Four would take center stage. The spectacle of the NCAA men’s basketball tournament undoubtedly occupied a few folks, but
lovers of jazz and jazz books convened on the SyncSpace platform to see and hear the final four of Richard Koloda, Aidan Levy, Philip Watson and Michael Wolff, authors of the four books nominated in the Biography/Autobiography category of this year’s Jazz Journalists Association’s Book Awards.
For good measure, Monika Herzig, Willard Jenkins, Michael Kahr, James Reddan and Kenny Werner, nominees in the History, Criticism and Culture category were there too for the first event of the 28th Annual JJA Jazz Awards. March Madness indeed!
The format might be familiar to conference road-dogs: a kickoff in the grand ballroom (here modeled on
an iteration of Chicago’s Jazz Showcase) with welcoming remarks by Bob Blumenthal, head of the Book Committee that selected the nominees and a breakout room (a gallery inspired by the Durham Jazz Workshop/ Sharp 9) where a series of presentations on granular topics took up the remainder of the day. These included interviews with the authors of the nominated books moderated by Blumenthal, singer-writer and Women in Jazz Media founder Fiona Ross and Bay Area radio personality Brad Stone. All that was missing was the catering table with desultory doughnuts and bad coffee.
There was no shortage of beverages either, though like the busy bar setting where they were liberally dispensed, the cocktails too were virtual.
Very much real, if digitally mediated, were Richard Carlin, senior acquisitions editor of SUNY Press, Cymbal Press publisher Gary Stager, who refereed discussions of the increasingly inscrutable book market, the details of which might have sent some participants to pour a real drink of their own.
Or maybe they decamped for the private discussion room in the form of a virtual forest. That’s where I took a break to chat with Erie, Pennsylvania homie Rick Lopez, author of The Sam Rivers Sessionography, a massive omnium gatherum of the great saxophonist/composer/scenemaker’s career. Not knowing if the mist rolling across the virtual forest floor was an incipient forest fire (you can’t smell a virtual mist), we got out of there and headed back to the safety and conviviality of the Bash.
For those who mourn the demise of the family reunion that was IAJE or who can’t afford Winter Jazzfest or a Newport ticket, this was a place to catch up with old friends, learn about new initiatives and as always, to hear great stories from A-list storytellers. For JJA members and nominees, at least, it didn’t cost a dime (a mere $10 to the general public). And even though they weren’t real, the drinks were free, too.
