jazz lunch with the Smiths
 This lunch rendezvous has been in the planning stages since Buddy Bolden fell out of bed in 1879, landed on his cornet and accidentally invented jazz. For me, it was a highlight of this year's jazz festival, even though it had nothing to do with it. In 1967 Jane and I hitchhiked from Montreal to Toronto for a couple of days. She introduced me to John Norris upstairs at Sam the Record Man, an entire floor of jazz and blues records overseen by Norris. He was also publisher and editor of Coda Magazine which I'd been reading, when I could find a copy, for some years, so I was thrilled to meet him. Later that evening I visited Norris and his wife and it so happened that the new issue of Coda was being put out. Pages had to be stapled together, a process I was an expert at, having wor  ked in an office where I did exactly this and it was pretty much the only useful skill I possessed so I was happy to be able to make my contribution to what became the best jazz magazine in the world.Putting out Coda was party time. Friends and contributors showed up, food and drink were plentiful, and we had a ball collating, stuffing envelopes, and listening to the latest additions to John's vast record collection. Among those gathered that evening was a yound and handsome Englishman with surprisingly decent teeth. Bill Smith. Smith was art director of the magazine, and one it's major contributors of interviews, criticism, artist profiles, and photography. I won't even try to enumerate all the many ways he has contributed to the advancement of jazz and improvised music in Canada and the world. Eventually he became editor of Coda and, I believe, remained so until the journal changed ownership a few years ago. Since the late eighties Bill has lived on Hornby Island. And, I suppose, in a way, I'm his publisher now, as I've provided a little corner on the world wide web for Bill to make a small part of his archive of writing and photography available to everyone. So . . . in the forty years since we met, Bill and I have met a thousand times or more (or less) at concerts, gallery openings, jazz festivals, bars, hotels . . . you name it. And it took four decades of planning to finally sit down at a meal together, accompanied by his lovely, charming, and vivacious daughters, Natasha Simone and Karla Chan at Provence on Marinadise in Yaletown. Jazz Festival posts |