Harlem, New York City
Harlem has always had a rhythm of its own, blending multiple styles and cultures into one intoxicating beat. Lance Richardson walks us through the place he calls home.
IIt’s a warm Friday evening in autumn when I arrive at Bill’s Place (billsplaceharlem.com) on West 133rd Street. The building – a New York brownstone – is unremarkable but there are fairy lights and a red marquee above the entrance. As I step up to press the buzzer, I notice a plaque on the wall announcing that Billie Holiday was “discovered” here in 1933 during the days of Prohibition, when the basement was a speakeasy where people could dance and drink with impunity.
These days, Bill’s Place is a jazz club, though not like you imagine – with waitresses carrying Martinis on silver trays, say, or a lounge singer crooning from behind a grand piano. This is Harlem. Things work a little differently here.
A man opens the door and steps into the street. A small crowd has gathered behind me, people clutching bottles of wine or beer (Bill’s is BYO), and from each person the man accepts a $20 “donation”. Then he ushers us inside to a room so narrow the stage is sideways and the seats are pressed against the walls. When I take my place, I’m that close to the drums, I could reach out and flick a cymbal.
A sleepy-looking gent wanders onto the stage, clutching a saxophone. Behind him are portraits of John Coltrane, Dizzy Gillespie – and himself. “Hi everyone,” he says, as the band takes their places around him. “Welcome to Bill’s Place. This is Bill.” He laughs a slow wheeze.
And then suddenly, out of nowhere, the tiny space is filled with a very big sound – sax, drums, piano, double bass – everything combining and separating in a hyperactive tempo, manic and yet strangely sublime. I wonder what the neighbours think, hearing this multiple times a week. They’re probably used to it, like they’re used to the rumble of subway trains beneath the street. Bill’s Place is just another layer of the urban soundscape. Harlem is loud and shameless, low-fi and improvised, the kind of place where you can find a jazz concert in a stranger’s apartment. Which is exactly what makes it so wonderful.