Festival de Jazz de Pontenx-les-Forges
Yesterday the celebrated Pessac Jazz Band was playing at the 8th annual Pontenx Jazz Festival deep in the heart of the forest of Les Landes. We went by bus, shared with a group from the St Médard-en-Jalles music school. Also playing were the Mimizan Big Band and the orchestra of the Pontenx music school. It was a fine time spent in this really small town with a full hall of people who'd spent 5 euros each to hear some pretty good stuff. Some of the players were really not bad at all, and the Mimizan Big Band is coming on in leaps and bounds. Their music school has started a jazz workshop for people to learn improvisation etc.
We played last on the billing, then a new English friend who plays saxo for St-Medard but who lives way down in Bazas came zooming into the changing room and said "That was brilliant". He was very complimentary, though we were not awfully happy; the amplifiers for the singers were a bit rotten and we felt we'd done better on the past. Still.
Anyway, afterwards everyone had supper together (soup, ham salad, apricot pastry) and we boarded the bus for home and I got in very late indeed ! (It's OK. Pat knew where I was.)
On the way there we chatted. On the way back some slept, some talked, I dozed and half-listened to the talk.
It brought back happy memories of brass band competitions in places like Cwmtwrch and Cwmllynfell when I was a teenager. Small towns that would have to club together to share a horse between them. Same home-grown high-brow/low-brow culture kind of feel.
We played last on the billing, then a new English friend who plays saxo for St-Medard but who lives way down in Bazas came zooming into the changing room and said "That was brilliant". He was very complimentary, though we were not awfully happy; the amplifiers for the singers were a bit rotten and we felt we'd done better on the past. Still.
Anyway, afterwards everyone had supper together (soup, ham salad, apricot pastry) and we boarded the bus for home and I got in very late indeed ! (It's OK. Pat knew where I was.)
On the way there we chatted. On the way back some slept, some talked, I dozed and half-listened to the talk.
It brought back happy memories of brass band competitions in places like Cwmtwrch and Cwmllynfell when I was a teenager. Small towns that would have to club together to share a horse between them. Same home-grown high-brow/low-brow culture kind of feel.
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