When a 14 year old says clap and a sold out room of people of every age does so willingly, something is happening. Her name is Nikki Yanofsky and while her audience could have easily been attending a performance of Wicked, they chose to come to the Montreal Jazz Festival. And this kid is choosing to sing jazz. She sings her lungs out. Maybe not her heart, cause quite frankly at 14, she doesn’t have the right to sing the blues, but the audience didn’t care one bit. She reminded me of reading Julie Andrews writing about her life as a 12 year old phenom in England- she could hit every note, but she had years to go before she learned how to sing. I am prepared to wait.
And then I listened to an audience full of people singing happy birthday to Hank Jones who is about to turn 90 this month. Michael Bourne was with me and he has already eloquently described the Jones and Jones experience. Hank Jones and Oliver Jones treated me to an evening that I may never get to witness again. And Nikki Yanofsky gave me a clue to what I have to look forward to in the future.
But the shining star of the evening was our divine Dee Dee Bridgewater. Gutsy. Beautful. After her show, watching the line of people waiting to meet her as she signed autographs at Archambault ( the hidden gem of a media store in the Place des Artes), personified the meaning of adoring fans. Dee Dee glowed. They loved her French, her English, her spirit.
I went to three different concerts. A night of jazz in many forms. And I loved every minute of it.