17 January 2018


I have written about the Dew Drop Hall before. But it is such an important building in the history of traditional jazz that - for the benefit of newcomers - I think it is worth writing about again.
The Dew Drop Hall
April 2015
For me the ambition to see The Dew Drop Hall started when I read that Marla Dixon's Shotgun Jazz Band played there on 7th November, 2014. That was what prompted me to find out more about this important jazz venue. It must have been a great thrill for Marla and her team to play in this very spot, among the spirits of so many of the Greats who performed there one hundred years earlier.

So let me tell you about this truly legendary old building that is one of the most important venues in the history of traditional jazz. It's the oldest surviving building in the world in which jazz was played in the earliest years of its development; and traditional jazz is again being played there today. I'm referring to the The Dew Drop Dance and Social Hall, which is situated at 430 Lamarque Street in Old Mandeville, Louisiana.
A great thrill for me was finally setting foot in The Dew Drop Hall in April 2015, when I was in New Orleans for the French Quarter Festival.

The story of the Hall begins on 5 May 1885, when local African Americans created The Dew Drop Social and Benevolent Association - aiming to provide help to the sick and the needy.

The Association built the hall from cypress timber nine years later - and opened it in 1895. Its foundations were simple brick piers (a wise choice for flood protection at the time). The pier at the front on the left still bears the original inscription (now barely legible).
It commemorates the founding of the Dew Drop Social and Benevolent Society No. 2 of Mandeville on May 5th, 1885, and the construction of the building in 1895, along with the names of the building committee.

Thwalls were covered with weather-boards at the front, and batten on the sides and rear; and they were originally painted green. The carpenters created the large wooden double-door at the front gable end, and a smaller door on the right at the back. There was an open beam ceiling. It was essentially a one-room structure, available for meetings, celebrations, vaudeville, dances and so on. It became the centre of social life.
The dais (mainly used as a bandstand) at the far end was typical of the time - with a wooden banister front opening in two places for the steps. The original dais was small (the part behind the banister on the left) but it was later extended to what we see in the picture above. The hall was built without electricity - or plumbing - or even glass: the 'windows' were simply openings measuring 6 feet high by 4 feet wide. They were normally covered by wooden shutters. These windows must have helped keep the band and audience cool on humid evenings.

Lamarque Street is to this day a quiet sparsely-populated, leafy, narrow road.

But where exactly is it? Answer: about 35 miles north of The French Quarter in New Orleans. It's where I've put the red dot at the centre top of this Google Map, very close to the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain.

From the earliest days, musicians started to cross the lake by steamboat to play for Saturday night dances in the Hall.
There were three landing-places for the boats on the shoreline - from east to west the Camellia Landing (destroyed by fire in 1912), the St. Tammany Pier (destroyed by fire in 1926), and the Lewisburg Landing (at the Lewis Plantation). The bands brought plenty of fans with them: Mandeville was considered a fashionable resort. It had several bands playing in various venues, including pavilions, the hotels and local park.

Pretty well all the famous early jazz musicians played at The Dew Drop Hall. Buddy Petit, Bunk Johnson, Kid Ory, Tommy Ladnier, Louis Armstrong, Papa Celestin, Sam Morgan, Chester Zardis and George Lewis were among them. Local man Isidore Fritz - according to such witnesses as George Lewis one of the best jazz clarinet players of all time - was a regular there, leading The Independence Band, which was hugely popular. He had Tommy Ladnier on trumpet and Edmond Hall on clarinet. Isidore's two brothers also played. What a pity the band was never recorded (or even photographed, it seems). Fritz was unwilling to cross the Lake to play in New Orleans. Why? Because he was doing very nicely in Mandeville and also had a family building business there. Fritz died in 1940.

Lillian, the wife of banjo-player Buddy Manaday (of Buddy Petit's Band) later recalled that white people as well as black attended and they all got along well together. Petit's Band, by the way, played at many venues in the  region - including at Bogalusa, Pensacola and Moss Point.

By the 1920s and 1930s, the Hall was a major centre for jazz concerts. Wooden benches provided limited and basic seating for about 100 people.

But - how sad! - as fashions and customs changed, the young were no longer interested, the Dew Drop Association ceased to exist and the Hall was virtually abandoned in the mid-1940s. This state of affairs continued for about half a century.

What amazing luck that nobody knocked the building down! All the other similar dance halls of its era were demolished or changed hands and acquired new uses or (like The Sons and Daughters Hall - also in Mandeville, on Lake Shore Drive) burned down.

The overgrown plot was bought at auction in 1993 by Jacqueline 'Jinx' Vidrine. She might have been expected to demolish the building and erect a modern house there; but she was a jazz enthusiast and knew what she was doing. She cleared the plot and investigated the building. She even found an old upright piano inside.
Jacqueline dreamed of re-opening the Hall as a jazz venue or museum. After some years, she managed to get the local Parks Service interested. By 1999, a first concert was possible! Mayor Eddie Price and the Mandeville Council recognised the importance of the property and bought the plot of land from Jacqueline. She herself donated the Hall to the community. Funds had been raised, including donations from the English. 

There had been a plan to transport the Hall to a site in Louis Armstrong Park, New Orleans. But the Mayor of Mandeville was easily convinced that the Hall should stay where it was. In 2001 the Hall was placed on the National Register of Historic Places. The 'official' re-opening was on 5 May, 2002. In 2006, two members of the Mandeville City Council led a campaign to create The Friends of Dew Drop - a non-profit organisation. There had to be a little refurbishment (at a cost of about 25,000 dollars), but they ensured it was entirely sympathetic with the original design of the Hall. Here is how the Hall looked in Lamarque Street when I visited. Note the (inevitably moss-covered) tree in front of it.
Concerts featuring the best of local musicians are now put on fortnightly in the Spring and Autumn. There are string bands, jug bands and various similar groups as well as traditional jazz bands.

The band performing when I was there included the great Gregg Stafford and Michael White and the outstanding young bass player Tyler Thomson.
There was even a brolly parade.
Just inside the entrance door
I'm thrilled to say that 'Jinx' is still very much involved in helping with activities at the Hall. She was there and I had the honour of being introduced to her.
Jacqueline Vidrine -
the driving force in preserving the Hall
If you go to The Dew Drop, you have a choice between standing, or arriving early to secure one of those wooden seats, or (bringing your picnic chairs) listening from outside to the wonderful music drifting through the large open windows (three on each side). Good Louisiana food is usually on sale outside the Hall, as it was in the earliest days.

The Shotgun Jazz Band
performing there in 2014
By the way, you may care to watch a video I made about The Dew Drop:
Three days after the Gregg Stafford concert, the great Tuba Skinny played at The Dew Drop Hall. A video showing one of the tunes they played can be seen by clicking on here.

And for a much more recent video of Tuba Skinny playing at the Hall, CLICK HERE. The tune is the wonderful Deep Bayou Moan, composed by Shaye Cohn.
Just in case you may be interested to know which tunes were played when I was there for the Gregg Stafford concert in April 2015, the programme was:
We Shall Walk Through The Streets of the City
Bye Bye Blackbird
Fidgety Feet
Careless Love
Golden Leaf Strut (final strain of 'Milneberg Joys')
Panama Rag
When You're Smiling
Burgundy Street Blues (Michael White feature)
You Always Hurt The One You Love
Blueberry Hill
Baby Won't You Please Come Home
Creole Love Call
Just a Little While To Stay Here
What a Friend We Have in Jesus
When The Saints Go Marching In

Long may The Dew Drop continue!

14 January 2018


I mentioned a couple of months ago that I had discovered for the first time pocket music notebooks (made by Moleskine). I have since had a lot of pleasure filling them with useful straightforward lead-sheets of tunes played by traditional jazz bands - particularly those that are the more difficult to remember, or that have verses worth hearing but rarely played.
I have made such progress that I have filled three books, with a total of over 400 tunes so far. Of course, I also keep and regularly update an Index, so that I can find any tune in a moment.

Although they truly are pocketable, I like their robustness, the amount of space they give on and between staves (just right for me) and the way the books stay open at the desired pages when playing an instrument.

I intend to start a fourth soon.


The book 'Enjoying Traditional Jazz' by Pops Coffee is available from Amazon.

11 January 2018


How much should traditional jazz musicians practise?
Obviously, when you are in the early stages of mastering your instrument and learning tunes, a great deal of practice is needed. But after you reach an acceptable standard and play regularly in a band, do you really need to practise at home every day? If so, for how long?

I don’t think there is a ‘right’ answer. But let me pass on some observations.

Sometimes I come across musicians who consider themselves so clever that they have no need to practise. They arrive at a gig saying with pride, ‘This is the first time I’ve had this instrument out of its case since we last played here a month ago!'

In 1958, when the internationally-renowned Fodens Motors Brass Band was giving a concert in Hyde Park, London, I asked their principal cornet player Edward Gray how much he practised. This man was one of the very best cornet players in the world at the time. ‘Two hours every day,’ he answered. Yes, he still felt he needed that amount of practice in order to stay at the top.

And in New Orleans, I have learned from conversations with them that the great contemporary young traditional jazz musicians regard daily practice as very important. Even on days when he has to head off to two or three gigs, the trombonist Charlie Halloran always begins with a warm-up session at home. James Evans, one of the greatest reed players, told me he still works very hard at his playing in order to do well amidst so much competition. And Barrie Marshall told me: 'When I went to New Orleans some years ago, Orange Kellin was in town and had the flat above us. You could hear him playing every day, lots of scales and arpeggios'.

The Wihan String Quartet – one of the world’s greatest – told me that, whenever possible, they treat their practice like an office job: they assemble at 9am and work solidly on their quartets until lunchtime. After that, they are free to go to their separate activities and engagements, which include giving music lessons.

Like many trying to play traditional jazz, I am self-taught and I often wonder what I missed by not having a musical education. My guess is that those young people who studied music in colleges (such as many of the younger generation playing in New Orleans today) were taught how to make the best use of time spent in practice. They must have experienced coaching such as the rest of us can only imagine. I guess they were put through skilfully-designed drills, routines and exercises.

Most of us have to make do with what we can devise for ourselves and a few tips picked up along the way. Here are some pieces of advice that have been passed to me by good musicians:

(1) If you have trouble with a small segment of a tune, play it over and over again – just that segment – until you manage it comfortably. Come back to it the following day, and repeat.

(2) Do not practise continuously. Take short breaks between exertions.

(3) 'It’s not enough to practise something until you get it right. You must practise it until you never get it wrong.’ This comment was made by Erich Höbarth - one of the very best classical violinists in the world, whom I once had the pleasure of meeting.

(4) You may think you should spend half your time playing exercises (e.g. scales and arpeggios) and the other half working on tunes and improvisations. But one very fine classical pianist told me exercises can be boring and can discourage us from practising. She said you can find all the exercises you need within the music itself, if you select tunes that are sufficiently challenging.
Having said all that, I must end with a confession: I find it very difficult to motivate myself to practise.

8 January 2018


Here's a really tough challenge for you. One of these two pictures shows me standing beside the mighty River Mississippi in New Orleans. The other shows me standing beside the mighty River Trent near my home here in Nottingham, England. Can you figure out which is which?

And while we're on the subject of spotting differences, can you detect any difference between the melodies of 'If You Don't Want Me, Please Don't Dog Me Around' and 'Make Me A Pallet On Your Floor'? You can hear them in these two videos.