Herbie Hancock

Figuring out how to get places in this city is ridiculous.  They don't have "blocks" or "street signs" or "addresses" as we know them.  You're lucky if you're even given a district.  But while I may not have language skills, I have a pretty darn good sense of direction.  (I shouldn't give myself so much credit-- most of the places off campus I've had to go are around the same place.)  I spend a lot of time on google maps comparing places I've been and buses I've taken.  

Today I had to find the Cemal Resit Rey Konser Salonu to see Herbie Hancock at the Istanbul Jazz Festival.  I allowed myself three hours for this adventure.  I'd heard rumors that it was near the Hilton Hotel, which was on some major street in Taksim.  So I went north on the biggest street I could find.  I was just about to give up and ask someone in "Tourist Information," until I realized that "Tourist Information" was part of the Hilton Hotel.  Well, "Tourist Information" was closed, but luckily we had been learning about asking for and giving directions in class.  This came in very helpful, except for the fact that I don't know how much "500 meters" is in any language.  

Asking for directions was fun.  It better have been, because I had to do it three times.  Each time, I'd walk away and think "Ack!  Question particles!  Next time I'll use them!".  But I'm pretty sure everything else made sense.  Which is a step up from yesterday's "my phone doesn't hit" and "how much is the longest phone?"  At any rate, I'm allowed to make mistakes if the concert program can have a sentence that says, "In celebration of our fifteenth year, we will be penetrating each and every corner of the city with a programme developed with a 'best of 15 years' approach, keeping jazz in the very heart of it."  

With an hour to spare, I sat in a park and did some homework:

Here's the concert hall:

"Caz" is "Jazz," just like (sorry, Pranks) "Robocan" is "Robojohn":

Now, my ethnographic fieldnotes instruction book says to write down your initial impressions, mentioning all the senses.  I often forget about smell.  Tonight I did not forget about smell.  I don't think anyone around me was wearing deodorant.

The concert started a half hour late "at the request of the artist."  It was worth the wait.  The bass player, Dave Holland, was especially amazing.  The other people in the group were Vinnie Colaiuta (drums), Lionel Loueke (guitar) and Chris Potter (saxophone).  The audience got very excited when the they stuck to more straightforward blues, but there were some solo experimental pieces (piano, bass, and guitar) that I and the long haired kids with me in the student section thought were incredible.  Audience members seemed to have no problem with getting up and leaving in the middle of the concert (or the the middle of a song, for that matter), but they were reluctant to clap until a piece had finished.  They got a bit more rowdy towards the end (the Turkish propensity towards clapping on 1 and 3 is pretty funny for a piece that's in 17), but it was still strange.  The only other concert I've seen here being a rock concert, I don't know if being so quiet is usual for Turkish audiences in concert halls, or if it's just the way they act for an American guest artist.  

Herbie Hancock joked around in English, and he seemed to be generally understood.  He asked if anyone in the audience was from Chicago.  I raised my hand, but, as I was sitting in the very last row, he didn't see me.  Too bad.