Mainly Clubs, Mostly Jazz

Many artists trace others’ footsteps, while certain standouts develop their own paths. Similarly, while many live music venues stick to a familiar formula, occasionally a space comes along with its own distinct vision, vibe and style. Jean Darlene in the Dundas & Ossington neighbourhood is one of the latter, offering a unique, memorable experience to its clientele. 

The first time you go, be warned: the entrance is not where you think it is, as is explained in the QR code on the door at 1203 Dundas West. Follow the instructions: walk west, turn left at the KFC, take the alley all the way to the end and take the stairs down; check your coat, pay your cover and take the stairs up and you’ll arrive at your destination: The Jean Darlene Piano Room. 

“Where am I?” you will wonder: the lighting is dim and mysterious; a disco ball illuminates the air; a golden grand piano sparkles in the corner; a bartender mixes a martini; you have never been here and yet it feels as warm and inviting as an old friend’s apartment.

I was going to start this column with a joke about October being the scariest month of the year. “A time to contemplate death, devils, and diminished chords,” I wrote in an earlier draft, perhaps trusting that it would have been cut in editing. But then I was reminded that this is in fact a double issue, and that the U.S. election is happening in November, so I have changed my tune; nothing is scarier than a federal election or two (save perhaps going in for major surgery, or pursuing a career in music, depending on one’s tolerance for pain.)

When I was first contemplating applying to the University of Toronto’s Jazz Studies program, there were many factors that made the prospect appealing: the downtown location, the stellar faculty, the impressive (and at times intimidating) skill level of the student body. Nothing, however, quite captured the allure of the program as much as the promise of the weekly small-ensemble performances at The Rex.

Every year in Toronto – at least for this west coast transplant – summer seems to arrive all at once. Parkas transform into t-shirts; boots to sandals; a pervasive dread that winter shall never end is replaced by a cautious optimism that a few brief moments of respite are at least theoretically possible. The summer has many of the same delights to offer as the regular season for the dedicated music patron, but festival season also offers the appealing prospect of being jolted out of one’s usual routines.

Ah, awards season. That very special time of year when artists across a variety of fields experience the thrill of being nominated, grapple with existential issues of the validity of awards and rankings within the arts, eat a moderately expensive banquet salad, and rub shoulders with fellow Canadian music-industry colleagues. (When I attended the JUNOs, in 2016, Canadian hip-hop legend Kardinal Offishall came up behind me, patted me on the shoulder and said “keep doing what you’re doing, man.” When I turned around, he said “oh, sorry, thought you were, uhh…” and promptly left. It remains a proud moment.)