Jazz Musician Nguyễn Bảo Long: “Jazz Club is like a school” (P1)

Interview by Uyên Ly for Long Waits and Hanoi Grapevine
Supported by Minh Hiếu
Image provined by Long Waits
Kindly credit Hanoi Grapevine when sharing the article.
Please do not copy or repost without permission.

Long Waits is a small, cozy jazz club nestled on the second floor of a house inside a narrow alleyway on Nguyen Quang Bich Street, Hanoi, next to the historic Hang Da Market. It has been a year since its very first show, and this nostalgic room opens its doors every weekend to welcome souls that happen to be enchanted by the purest genre of jazz music.

Long Waits was founded and managed by the trio of Nguyễn Bảo Long, Khuất Tuấn Anh and Bùi Xuân Hùng. With a shared respect for art and wholehearted dedication, they boldly invested their finances, talent and time into a venue for jazz, with each weekend performance drawing several dozen audience members.

Let’s take a look back at the one-year journey of Long Waits with its co-founder, the soulful and steadfast saxophonist Nguyễn Bảo Long. In this interview, Bảo Long said he preferred challenges over ease. He envisions a jazz club in every neighbourhood, believing that “not everyone who plays music is a good person, but those who do are less likely to become bad ones. They are more benevolent!”

After a year, Long Waits has emerged as one of the most notable and high-quality jazz clubs in Hanoi. One of their impressive and unique projects is a series of performances with 100 jazz albums. Each week, one album is selected to introduce to music enthusiasts. This remarkable project has gone through almost half of its seamless journey, having performed nearly 50 albums over about 50 weeks, a challenging feat of endurance.

Bảo Long said: “100 albums, if all tracks are played, that means about 800 songs, with around 5% repetition. Scouting the internet for research is an enormous task. There are many versions of the same song. The music scores for some of them are not even available, so I have to listen and transcribe.”

Note: This is an extensive and extra long interview, divided into two parts! Please follow both parts for the full experience.

What is the motivation behind the 100 album project?

It’s simply because I wanted to design a programme for our club. I was not aware I would run into some very challenging albums. I only make selections based on the genealogy of jazz. From the era of free jazz onwards, there was no systematic archive for subsequent musicians, so I had to recreate the music scores, like mathematical graphs. But it’s also very interesting, because jazz music reflects different periods of society. For example, from the constrained phase (the 1950s) and to the more liberal one with a stronger emphasis on individuality. And it’s very surprising that in these albums, the musicians expressed their joy and excitement.

I didn’t realise that until I got into work, and when we got to the 45th album, I could see that my selections based on the jazz genealogy were a correct decision, because that is the logical arrangement. I didn’t think the workload would be so enormous at first. But it feels like watching a movie running from the 1920s to the 1980s. Every week, people get to enjoy it together, which is a rare occasion. Audience members from abroad come here and say that there is nowhere else doing this.

How did your journey as a saxophonist begin?

My father was a ballet dancer at the Vietnam National Opera & Ballet. As a child, I auditioned to be a ballet dancer, but I was skinny and didn’t grow as fast as my peers, so I didn’t pass. By chance, one of my uncles, who was returning from then Czechoslovakia, sent home a large box of sugar with a trumpet, and I started my 10 years of studying trumpet at the national music conservatory (now the Vietnam National Academy of Music), then later started training with Minh, the saxophonist (veteran jazz musician Quyền Văn Minh).

Why did you choose jazz?

At the conservatory, my study focused on classical music. Minh mentored me, always saying that if you play the saxophone, you have to play jazz. His lessons on jazz music were very valuable. It wasn’t about arrangements or techniques, but about how to perceive music. A good teacher makes you cherish every exercise, from small music pieces to major works, with respect and responsibility. Have respect for composers and listeners. What I learned from Minh was that we shouldn’t play the notes cautiously or meticulously, but with personality and a story to interpret them.

A jazz artist’s life should involve some sacrifice to play the music well. In classical music, one had to sacrifice oneself (one’s ego – writer’s note) to play the composition as it was written. In jazz improvisation, one has to be oneself. When training with Minh, he made me realise that playing music well is not only all about joy. Music can feel good even when we struggle or suffer in life. What’s truly within oneself at that moment is what impresses the listeners.

Now jazz can be considered a language to express oneself, one’s ego. Jazz is no longer confined to one country; it may see popularity in certain countries but each should have its own language.

When I graduated from the conservatory, I hadn’t played jazz yet. In the 2000s, Hanoi had many dance clubs and music venues. I played trumpet at those places, playing pop music. Then came television music, talent contests – Sao Mai Điểm Hẹn, Con đường âm nhạc. Expertise-wise, I felt I didn’t study or train much; I just carried my trumpet to the places, wore nice clothes on glamorous stages, and took money home. But that means staying stagnant and going backwards. I realised I didn’t know much when I started playing jazz. I had to learn and research. Then came jazz clubs like Quyền Văn Minh’s or Long Waits today. I went there in the evening and practised the next morning… to improve myself.

I played at Quyền Văn Minh’s place (Bình Minh jazz club – writer’s note) for 15 years, there I got to practise and learn a lot. There were opportunities to meet other musicians from other places, and to understand the levels of international jazz artists and musicians at our jazz club. When I realised the differences, I wanted to reduce the gap as much as possible.

In addition, being in this industry, I feel a need for curating, meaning I want to see compositions from a broader perspective. Curating a programme is a way to grow beyond what I know. I’m not sure about the motivation behind this but I have a desire to curate. I’m not sure about the motivation behind but I persuaded others to rent the Hanoi Opera House, practice, and sell tickets. We split the money afterwards. It was a difficult time but very enjoyable. During that time, I learned the skills to curate a programme, with both successes and failures, with few or many tickets sold. I think every impact, whether we failed or succeeded, was beneficial for the artists participating. It was a time when we produced and curated our own shows, selling tickets using contacts from our own phone books, filling up our tanks after rehearsals to deliver tickets, and finding ways to collaborate with others for ticket sales.

“Our profits were about experiences, not about money.”

For me, jazz has no turning point or period. For me, it’s always an enriching journey where I put in the most to learn and play.

How was Long Waits established?

Long Waits was established by me, Tuấn Anh and Hùng – the three of us collaborated to build Long Waits. The other two handle the business aspects while I oversee the music, so all business decisions are made by them. As for the music, I have the final say and we don’t step on each other’s toes.

For the artistic aspects, I plan annually. So far, it has been running smoothly in terms of both artistic quality and finances. We haven’t had to bear losses; it sustains itself. I’m very pleased; this shows that Hanoi people are willing to pay for tickets to enjoy art rather than just drinking with music in the background. We want people to buy tickets to enjoy art, whether they drink or not is optional.

“There is a difference in attitude between paying for performance tickets and paying for drinks with free music.”

After a year, I find it quite successful and we’ve persisted in that direction. Everyone was quite stressed initially but later saw it was the right thing to do. And if we were doing it for free, we would have to rely on sponsors. I’ve participated in many sponsored events and learned enough. If we can thrive without sponsorship, it is proof that our art has real value.

As for feedback, I’m surprised how quickly the internet can bring people together. We receive requests from artists interested in performing here almost every month. Musicians from the Sydney Conservatorium of Music in Australia, from Sweden, and even Japanese artists have performed here. It’s amazing. It affirms our quality. In June, we have a performance by an Indonesian artist, and after a year, the Sydney Conservatorium of Music also wants to return for more shows…

How did you, Tuấn Anh and Hùng become friends?

It was by chance. Tuấn Anh was in Australia. Hùng was Tuấn Anh’s friend from university. I played at a mutual friend’s birthday party which Tuấn Anh was joining via video call, he liked my performance and we started chatting. Tuấn Anh learned saxophone with me for two years. By the third year, we thought it would be nice to do something together because we were getting along pretty well. I also wanted to do something but couldn’t do it alone. So when this idea came up we immediately got on board. Hùng started getting involved when things had just started running, Tuấn Anh was still in Australia and I specialised in music, so everything else fell on Hùng’s shoulders, from renovating and managing to servicing. Hùng’s been a constant soldier here.
How do music discussions usually go between the three co-founders?
It’s as simple as that they both like saxophone and are training with me. An artist must have an influence on the people around them. They like the way I play the sax and my way of living, so they want to follow. I think what is quite lacking in this society is respect for each other, respect for individuality, and not using one’s ego to trample on others’ values to get ahead. I and my two friends respect each other and respect art to build this Long Waits together. That is the most important thing. If you can respect each other and get along, hopefully you can do something bigger.
Respect each other means…?

Respect means we argue, but when it comes to music, I have the final say. As for construction or design, we argue, but Hùng calls the shots. As for the employees’ salaries, Tuấn Anh decides. And once the decision is made, we’re going to be happy and do it, not like ‘I let you decide but I’m not doing it’. As for respect in negotiation or compromise, it is difficult to give specific examples. I, Tuấn Anh and Hùng have a few years to express ourselves during our saxophone lessons and self-study hours, how they face the art and how they overcome challenges. That demonstrates their respect for art. That is important.

How do you select music for Long Waits?

All over the world, jazz clubs are like schools. Students learn at school and afterwards, they continue to learn at jazz clubs. Here too, I welcome students after they graduate from the conservatory. Every year, if given the opportunity and if the conservatory is open to the public, I go in and attend the graduation concerts. Then I understand what they have achieved after four years of higher education and, if I’m fortunate, select some to collaborate with me.

As for the programme at Long Waits, I pick out prominent jazz albums and perform each in its entirety rather than mixing them together. I choose albums that allow listeners to understand jazz in its most original form. Jazz has many sub-genres. When making selections, I pick albums from the major genres before they split into smaller ones. I choose artists who have a significant influence based on their performing and composing styles and how they curate that album. This way, the musicians will know the most original music of that era, and understand why this artist felt the urge to initiate a new genre based on the features of a certain piece at the time. Artists often have the need to break rules to produce a new type of music. Only by working fully with an album can one understand how the harmony in this certain part or segment breaks the rules. We discover these kind of things every week and can express ourselves through that.

At Long Waits, our programme is doing very well because of this approach. I also arrange for two different bands to play on Fridays and Saturdays. To play an entire album, I make preparations starting Monday, and we only practice together on Friday for just two hours. I require of them just two hours of practice to reach international standards. International artists need only a morning or afternoon for practice. In the first few months, it was very difficult to follow this method, but they gradually became more accustomed. And foreign artists who visit us are quite surprised at how quickly things are handled and the quality of productions.

So is the main purpose of music programmes at Long Waits is practice and learn from the music?

Yes, that’s correct. I know that within the industry, those who like jazz either get introduced to the genre by other artists or from their peers in the conservatory. We have to be open to finding new talents. Some who reach out to us have even worked as debt collectors. They come to us also to be humans. They trust us. In a band, I accept that some will play better than them. If they can persevere, they can catch up and bear the pressure of being next to others who play better. I don’t select skilled musicians to play together, I make my choices so that when they step in and out of here, they will possess good expertise – an international level of expertise.

How do you bridge the gap between those with and without formal training?

We spare a little more time to systematise, encode, digitise and demonstrate for them to play by ear. We cannot give them complex music scores like in the conservatory, but have to have a separate system for them. But music is a funny language. In the end, everyone can perform when they’re on stage, if they have faith in their mentor.