In the dimly lit back bar of a venue on Saint-Catherine Street, a woman wearing a short, all-white dress and a veil is absolutely wailing on a stand up bass. Marie-Ketely Abellard, wife and collaborator of Montreal-born jazz virtuoso Théo Abellard, is stealing the show a bit, but her pianist and composer husband doesn’t seem to mind. The pair playfully trade improvisations throughout the set, while drummer Tyson Jackson nimbly picks through beat pockets and solos behind them, rounding out the jazz trio.
It’s the kind of effortless, polished set that only jazz lifers can pull off — and not the type of act you’d see highlighted at most music festivals these days. But the Montreal Jazz Festival (formally Festival International de Jazz de Montréal) isn’t like most live music events taking place in 2024. In its own singular way, the event might actually provide a blueprint for fixing a festival system that seems irrefutably broken. Founded as a non-profit back in 1980, Jazz Fest has a totally different objective than modern festivals: the goal here is simply to celebrate music, not make a buck.
Before Théo Abellard Trio’s set even started, a crowd of a couple hundred was packed to the gills in the small venue, with standing room only. That’s partly because it’s one of almost 400 completely free shows that took place over the course of 10 days during this year’s Montreal Jazz Festival, and partly because a local Canadian jazz trio is the distinct kind of show attendees love to see at this particular festival. The trio is not one of a set of the same 25-30 names that adorn the banners of every single mainstream event in slightly different arrangements — and this is a good thing.
For that night’s show, no one had to hurriedly log onto Ticketmaster to try to get a ticket or festival pass before the room sold out. There was no VIP or higher-tier access — just an audience full of people who only had to note the set time and show up to listen to the music. And as the creep of ticket prices has slowly but surely sucked the life out of the touring model for smaller bands and broke fans alike, the emphasis on accessible, completely free live music at this festival is a refreshing one. (There are, of course, some ticketed shows during Montreal Jazz Fest, but the majority of the performances are free to attend.)
But the non-profit aspect of the festival isn’t just about removing the financial barriers that have prevented so many people from accessing live music, an issue that has become even more pressing in the post-pandemic years; it’s about gathering the community of music lovers in the city of Montreal to celebrate something together and build deeper connection. It’s also about bringing newcomers into the city to feel the sense of global camaraderie this long-running event fosters in the jazz community specifically and the music industry at large.
Three times longer than standard weekend festivals — which take place on temporary, soon-to-be trash-strewn grounds erected in parking lots or fields somewhere and then disassembled immediately after — this annual live music showcase is spread out across downtown Montreal, naturally integrated into the infrastructure of the city itself. Saint-Catherine is the main thoroughfare turned into a walking street, featuring makeshift stages for more free outdoor sets, as well as food vendors, pop-ups from music brands, and merch tents.
The whole thing is open to whoever wants to wander in and out, subject only to a simple bag check. No wristband or media pass is required. The abundance of free shows means that hundreds of people visit the city for the event every year too, and with the bulk of the concerts happening at night, visitors actually have a chance to explore neighborhoods and indulge in local treats like Montreal bagels and poutine before getting into festival mode. Instead of being stuck at long lines for dedicated fast food vendors inside a closed circuit event, the restaurants, bars, and shops throughout Montreal get a boost from the influx of tourists.
What’s more, the complimentary live shows extend beyond jazz trios in small rooms: Every year, headliners play shows that are free and open to the public on the largest main stage. This year, that stage was graced by Canadian crooner Charlotte Day Wilson, Australian funk crew Hiatus Kaiyote, Robert Glasper (!), San Diego’s Thee Sacred Souls, and Indiana rapper Freddie Gibbs. In other corners of the event, world-class artists like André 3000 and Norah Jones sold out packed ticketed shows, Killer Mike repped Atlanta with a full-on choir of back-up singers, and London’s acid jazz squad Alfa Mist won over fans at a late night set in a small club.
With the close ties between jazz and hip-hop, and the increasingly large presence of rap in the music ecosystem, it’s reassuring to see a festival with such a long traditional jazz history embracing artists like Freddie, André, and Mike on the bill. As popular as all three of these rappers are (as well as 3 Stacks’ burgeoning career as a jazz flautist), their musical styles and formats are still just outside the bounds of the mainstream, making them cult favorites (and Grammy winners) that still fit in well with the avant garde of the jazz world.
Actually, the music industry event that Montreal Jazz Festival is the most reminiscent of is South by Southwest, back before it was taken over by tech, mainstream corporations, and a host of spin off TV and film events. Every music journalist I knew when I was coming up over the last 15 years or so would point to SXSW as a way to meet other writers, discover rising artists, connect with other people in the community, and network with a whole host of other people who just love live music. Anyone who misses the “old SXSW” that was focused more on music discovery, unsung and local artists, or just industry legends who deserved a spotlight should consider heading up to Canada for Montreal Jazz Festival next year.
We’ve lost a lot of our community as music journalists because there are so few third spaces where people can safely, affordably gather, and in a lot of ways, Montreal Jazz Fest has the potential to bring that opportunity for connection back. When profit isn’t the goal and community is, then music is back to doing what it’s always supposed to do: bring people together.