Cheltenham Jazz Festival: Laura Jurd @ Parabola Arts Centre - May 1

It seems like years since I last saw Laura Jurd and I couldn’t remember how many times I’ve seen her. I know the first time was at the Scarborough Jazz Festival and Mrs T reminded me of one occasion I’d forgotten about. Nor had I done my homework properly and wasn’t expecting the eleven piece group I’d seen at Sage Gateshead a few years back. Interesting to see if the intervening years had affected my appreciation of this generation of British jazz.

Jurd was playing cornet on this occasion, with her regular quartet of Elliot Galvin on piano, Conor Chaplin on bass guitar and Corrie Dick on drums, with additional trombone and euphonium, the ubiquitous Rob Luft on guitar and the Ligeti String Quartet. Jurd is a regular member of the Electric Ladyland Big Band but this was obviously too close in the schedule for her to do both.

The set included compositions from Jurd, Galvin, Dick and Norwegian artists she’d collaborated with in the past, beginning with her own Stepping Out from the album Stepping Jumping In.

 

When Tony Dudley-Evans introduced the band he highlighted the contrast between this set, based on composition, and the previous set by Paul Dunmall based on improvisation, and I remembered a comment on one of the Charles Mingus documentaries that improvisation is a form of composition. I was immediately struck by the use of light and shade in the juxtaposition of quieter moments, with perhaps two or three instruments, and louder moments where the whole band were blowing, which was common to both bands. Also how the different elements of each band could pair different instruments to create more variety, clearly with greater opportunity for this in the larger band.

Jurd’s sound and technique is no less fantastic on cornet and Luft is never less than impressive, but the whole band demonstrated exemplary musicianship, blending the disparate sections seamlessly.  

 

Our busy schedule meant we came out before the end for a quick drink from the bar, essentially to get a couple of glasses for the bottle of prosecco we’d successfully stashed, but who knew – after all these years - the draught lager and cider would be so good, if – less surprisingly – so expensive. Also a chance to check the site out, reduced in size since the pandemic, with food stall prices inflated from expensive to silly, the CD store a no-show, presumably a result of  the rise of streaming, the demonisation of CD and the damp squib of a vinyls revival. Most alarming of all was the absence of a programme, an essential tool for the hapless reviewer, which wasn’t a popular move amongst festival-goers or volunteers either. Steve T