Paused jazz venues hit a low note
and warn music could soon stop
BY EILEEN GRENCH
THE CITY
“On the 1 train, I’ll be
there in 5 minutes,”
Carlos Abadie
shouted across the bar, reading
from his phone. That night’s
headliner, a saxophonist, was
running late.
In times past, Abadie, the
manager at Smalls Jazz Club and
a Grammy-nominated trumpeter,
would usually be prepping by 4
p.m. for what he described as “a
carnival ride” — long lines with
patrons begging for tickets to the
night’s two packed music sets.
Long known as a musicians’
gathering place, the Greenwich
Village fi xture would also hold
all-night jam sessions full of performers
looking to break into the
top ranks of the genre.
“That’s when the circus comes,”
said Abadie. “All types of characters
of a dubious nature. I think
it’s like a Marvel Comics setting,
you know? The Joker and Batman,
like Gotham City.… Like the artist’s
canvas just came to life.”
As night approached on a
recent Friday in mid-August, the
scene at Smalls looked utterly
different.
A Stream of Fans
Down from 25 full-time staff,
Abadie and another colleague
were left to manage what keeps
the West 10th Street club rolling:
a single red light glowing over
the empty seats and beer cartons,
attached to a ceiling-mounted
camera, signaling the live video
feed streaming onto the internet.
Jazz at the club — including
small, socially distanced ensembles
— is live-streamed for free
every night at 5 p.m. Meanwhile,
Smalls’ costs keep piling up —
insurance, over $20,000 dollars
in rent a month and more.
A Paycheck Protection Program
loan allowed Smalls to hold
onto staff for eight weeks.
Now the club is down to three
full time employees and is surviving
with support from the SmallsLIVE
foundation, a nonprofi t
established by club owner Spike
Wilner. Jazz fans donate what they
wish to become supporting members
of Smalls and Mezzrow, a
nearby club also owned by Wilner.
The foundation acts as an
emergency fund for artists, and
pays royalties to musicians whose
videos can be streamed from
The Eric Wyatt Quartet plays a live-streamed show in an otherwise empty Smalls Jazz Club
during the coronavirus outbreak.
a library of over 15,000 archived
shows. Before it’s doors closed,
Smalls depended on the proceeds
of ticket and drink sales.
Since March, the foundation
has kept Smalls alive — barely.
Wilner said he’s facing bankruptcy
if he cannot reopen by January.
“I want us to be mindful of this
virus,” he said. “But the arts need
a bailout. They need something to
keep musicians alive in the city,
if there’s not going to be any gigs
at all.”
‘Facing Extermination’
All of the city’s ticketed live
performances have been on hold
since late March under Gov.
Andrew Cuomo’s COVID safety
measures.
Singing, wind instruments,
loud talking, crowding — all
are hallmarks of jazz clubs that
also are known to propel virus
transmission.
Jazz, already on tenuous economic
footing, has suffered particularly
wounding blows, with
the loss of paying gigs and touring
opportunities for musicians.
“Up until the pandemic you
could look the other way and say,
‘Well, they aren’t making money,
clubs don’t pay well. They’re surviving
on the margin, but there’s
enough clubs and there’s enough
work for someone to break
through,’” said Loren Schoenberg,
founding director and
senior scholar at the Smithsonianaffi
liated National Jazz Museum
in Harlem. “And then something
like this hits…and boom.”
Added Schoenberg: “Now we
have a situation in which all but
the very largest clubs are facing
extermination.”
The Village Vanguard, billed
as the world’s oldest running
jazz club, survived Prohibition,
war and upheaval, but this is the
fi rst time it has been shuttered to
audiences, said owner Deborah
Gordon, whose father, Max,
started the business in the 1930s.
The Vanguard is charging viewers
$10 to stream live sets from the
club.
“Part of the stress of all this is
the uncertainty and the not knowing,”
said Gordon. “We’ll hobble
along to the best of our abilities
for as long as we can.”
PHOTO BY BEN FRACTENBERG/THE CITY
Community in Crisis
Dreams of playing in legendary
clubs like the Vanguard inspired
pianist Arcoiris Sandoval to fi ll
her backpack with a compass,
sheet music and snacks, and run
away from her Arizona home at
the age of 8.
“I meant to take a train to New
York City, to the Village,” she
said. Her father, a musician, had
long regaled her with tales of jazz
in New York City. She only made
it a couple of miles away.
Sandoval said that a sense of
community makes a venue like
Smalls such a magnet. “That
represents the timeless culture
of the music itself,” she said. “A
meeting spot for all of the greatest
musicians.”
With the clubs closed and that
community dispersed, news of the
death of fi xtures of the jazz community
felt even more crushing
to their colleagues. Among those
who passed away from complications
of COVID-19 was jazz great
Ellis Marsalis, father of Jazz at
Lincoln Center artistic director
Wynton Marsalis.
“Usually the jazz community
gets tight, celebrates the masters
of this music,” said pianist Miki
Yamanaka, another Smalls regular.
“We usually get together, play,
celebrate. We couldn’t even do
any of that.”
Even as they get creative to
keep their clubs going with the
doors shut, club owners say
state regulators keep piling on
obstacles. The latest: The State
Liquor Authority, which licenses
bars, last month forbade selling
tickets or even advertising shows,
barring anything other than “incidental”
music.
A coalition of mostly non-jazz
clubs has fi led a lawsuit challenging
the rules. A hearing is set for
Sept. 23.
“New Yorkers need to remember
we are still fi ghting a global
pandemic, and with dozens of
states facing outbreaks,” William
Crowley, an SLA spokesperson,
said in an emailed statement. “We
must continue to take the threat
of spreading COVID at mass
gatherings seriously. New York
State continues to look at the data
and science — here and across
the nation — and will update our
guidelines accordingly.”
This article was originally
published on Sept. 7 at 7:54
p.m. EDT by THE CITY, an
independent, nonprofit news
outlet dedicated to hard-hitting
reporting that serves the people
of New York.
14 Sept. 10, 2020 Schneps Media