Posted by On June 1st, 2024 I drove a half an hour across the rugged Newfoundland barrens from my place here in Harbour Grace to Winterton, where I saw just an incredible pile of music at the small and mighty Trinity Hall.
Twice, actually.
I suspect I have mentioned it before and I’m sure I’ll mention it again because it is so mind-shakingly improbable, but Trinity Hall is the very unique and rather unbelievable transformation of a decommissioned and decomposing church in rural Newfoundland into a downhome and modern over-achieving concert venue/recording studio/record label owned and run by a bona fide big-time Hollywood music producer who decided to sink a significant chunk of his time, money, and expertise into the tiny town where he used to spend summers as a child.
Now, as awesome as it is to have such an unlikely entity right here on the northern Avalon Peninsula and how amazing it is that Greg Wells (the big-time Hollywood music producer in question) has been signing local singer-songwriters by the dozen and whisking them down to his former studio in Los Angeles*, the “venue” aspect of Trinity Hall was pretty much lost on me. Though I’d attended a songwriting workshop there (helmed by Greg’s brother, the multi-platinum award-winning JUNO nominated music producer and songwriter Rob Wells) and performed there once or twice as a sideman, I was (and remain) systematically uninterested in virtually every act that has been booked into the room. Frankly, the only acts that ever seem to play at Trinity Hall are local and regional trad singers, and trad just ain’t my thing.
Jazz is my thing, blues is my thing, south African Zamrock is my thing…trust me, I got lots of things, but trad is not one of them. (I know, I know…not liking trad music and moving to Newfoundland is like moving to Jamaica when you don’t like reggae music; which I do, by the way. It’s another one of my things.)
But like I say, jazz is my thing – I would even say that jazz is my primary thing – so when I saw that Trinity Hall was presenting a jazz trio I jumped all over tickets despite not recognizing any of the players. Heck, I was so excited to see jazz out here in my neck of the woods that I also bought tickets to a workshop featuring the three musicians, which took place in the afternoon before the concert.
Which is how I ended up driving across the barrens to see pianist Robi Botos, drummer Larnell Lewis, and bass player Mike Downes. Twice.
The workshop was shockingly poorly-attended. Though there were less than ten of us in the pews when the musicians were introduced, we were a mighty enough crowd to qualify the event for the education grant that was essential to afford bringing such players all the way out to this edge of the Rock. Anyway, the eight of us were treated to an intimate introduction to a trio of true heavy-hitters, as each of the musicians took turns giving us their extended autobiographies accompanied with hands-on musical examples. During this time I discovered that Larnell Lewis played drums for Snarky Puppy so I’d definitely seen him before, and after just a few bars from bandleader Robi Botos’ playing I had a hunch that I’d seen him in an Oscar Peterson tribute/event at the NAC in Ottawa several years earlier; when I was home having dinner between the workshop and the show I confirmed it to be true. Don’t get me wrong, Robi Botos is his own musician, but after studying directly under the late great Oscar Peterson as the master’s final protégé he definitely picked up a few telltale habits.
After the three of them had finished answering all the questions the audience could muster they had time to run through/practise a smattering of selections that would be played again-but-different at the show proper. To a song these numbers were quieter and roomier than they would be played when the pews were all-but-full just a few hours later, and to the few of us sitting silently on the edge of our seats in that small church that afternoon it was a true fly-on-the-wall moment, and it was beautiful.
I believe the workshop cost just $20, and it came with lunch.
As cool as the workshop was – and it was very, very cool – the show was better by a mile. Sure, the intimacy level was diminished – but only a little; it’s a pretty small church after all – but these guys were warmed up and they had come to play. Their collective musicality was off the hook, but more than that was the astounding communication and deep sensitivity shared between the three players. They were like three perfectly-aligned cogs humming with a magical harmony that made the whole machine sing. Jazz? Man, we’re talking jazz. These guys were the very, very real deal.
I’ll never forget Larnell’s drum solo. He took his snare volume down to the point that it was barely-but-definitely audible, and with each descending decibel his tempo maintained the same vibrancy and energy as it did when he had been whacking it at the standard dynamics. His dynamic sensitivity was incredible and it literally took my breath away. The only time I had seen a percussionist with that level of control was when I worked with Evelyn Glennie at the National Arts Centre.
Top-to-bottom this was just an incredible pile of world-class jazz music, the likes of which I would barely dare to dream would ever come to Newfoundland, let alone tiny little Trinity Bay. And so it is with my jaw agape in wonder that I tip my metaphorical hat to big-time Hollywood music producer Greg Wells for having the head-shaking benevolence to create such an amazing place to make it happen.
More jazz please.
(So overwhelmed was I with the headlining act that I fear I only have space to mention the superbly great opening act Jacob Slous Trio parenthetically here at the bottom. The trio’s namesake is the drummer, the group’s fantastic bass player [Hunter Madden] lives just up the road from Trinity Hall, and playing guitar was none other than the amazing Grant King, whom I had just seen leading his band Big Space at the Black Sheep in Town on the previous night.
Anyway, the three of them laid down forty-five minutes of high-quality MMW-esque original instrumental exploratory jazz fusion, and it was fantastic. What a treat! Having the Jacob Slous Trio open for Botos/Lewis/Downes was like having dessert before supper.)
*Though Greg Wells lost his home and his recording studio and, well, pretty much everything he owned in the Pacific Palisades fire just seven months after this concert his enthusiasm for Trinity Hall did not wither. In fact, just weeks after the fire Wells treated the area to two back-to-back showings** of the new hit movie Wicked in his converted church (Wells co-produced the music and played all the non-orchestral instruments on the soundtrack. Dude is a wicked musician). At just $10 a ticket it was cheaper (and closer) than going to Cineplex to see it, plus Greg was there to introduce the film and offer up the floor to questions (there were none). I initially had seats dead centre in the front row but the event had been cancelled, refunded, then re-announced because of the fire and in the end I ended up sitting halfway back. Which was fine, but I think if I’d been in the front row I would have definitely asked a question.
**M’lady and I attended the first night, on February 15th, 2025. And now I officially don’t have to write a separate ticket story about it.
Todd Man Out 