Inspired by life…

March 18, 2010 | Write a Comment

Brad Turner gives listeners some background about his new multi-movement work for jazz septet and children’s choir.  Be sure to catch the world premiere this Saturday, March 21 at Evergreen Cultural Centre!

Introduction / “Hopes and Dreams” –  We all have people to thank for where we are in our lives. I know that without the love and support of my parents and my family, I wouldn’t be here to present this music to you all.

This is just a little musical ‘thank you’ from all of us to the folks who have been there for us from the beginning.

On The River – When I was nine years old, my Grandpa on my Mom’s side, Jarle Olsen, took me out on his fishing boat, on the Fraser river. He was working as a ‘collector’ then, meaning he would collect the catches from other fishermen’s boats, load them in the hold below, and take them to the cannery in Steveston, which is what we did. It was an overnight trip, and I got to sleep in the top bunk in the cabin. In the morning, I had my first cup of coffee (with vanilla ice cream in it!) and Grandpa’s deck hand showed me how to tie some knots while we made our way down river to Steveston. I’ll never forget the experience, particularly traveling underneath both the Port Mann and Pattullo bridges; it was a revelation to me at the time that one could go UNDER a bridge…

Main and Hastings – We live in and around the most beautiful city on the planet, but there is a flip side;  it can be found in the downtown east side, where despair and hopelessness are everywhere to be seen. At the same time, such human tragedy can lead to the most profound stories of triumph and redemption. Both ends of the spectrum exist there, out in the open, twenty-four, seven.

Porteau Cove –  I wrote this piece camping at Porteau Cove, in my wife’s parents’ trailer. As a family, we had camped there before, and I fell in love with the spot. The music reflects, to some degree, the natural environment there; rolling surf, sea birds, clouds sailing by… and of course, rain!

“Suitcase” Smith – Since the early ’70′s, when I started listening to Canucks games on the radio with my Dad, and watching them with him when they were on Hockey Night in Canada, I have been an ardent fan of the home team, through thick and thin. Mostly thin.  As a kid, I had a number of favorite players, and at the top of the list for a while was Gary “Suitcase” Smith, a big, flamboyant guy who played goal. He had a number of interesting habits, including punting the puck the length of the ice with the toe of his skate, stick-handling past centre on occasion, and wearing full length fur coats to the rink. Apparently he earned the nickname ‘Suitcase’ because of the fact that he had played for so many teams before he came to the Canucks… this tune is for him, and for my Dad who still is a huge fan of the team.

Gratitude – This one is in tribute to all of the great musicians that I have had the privilege to perform with, most notably the fellows I am on stage with tonight, who have taken the time to prepare this music so well for you all to enjoy. Thanks boys!

Maymont Belle – Eliza Merle Mawhinney, my Grandma on my Dad’s side, hailed from Maymont, a tiny village in Saskatchewan. It is the kind of place, that when making the trip from Edmonton to Saskatoon, if one’s attention wanders for a split instance (and how could that possibly happen on such an engaging and scenically varied route) one would certainly miss it.  It happened to me, and when it did, I made the guys in the band (not this band, a different one) turn the van around so I could have a look. It didn’t take long. Regardless, my Grandma was a real looker in her day, and Grandpa Fred fell for her hook line and sinker. This is for her.

3724 McGill – Since I left my parent’s place and went to college after graduating from high school , I have lived in a total of 14 different houses, basement suites, and or apartments. Such is the story of most artists -

we tend to be a touch nomadic. The house at 3724 McGill street in North Burnaby, was number eleven, and although it has long since been torn down and replaced, it remains the most storied of all of them.

That is the house where Tia (who is now my wife) first walked through the door, prompting me to pronounce to my roommate, with much bravado and ridiculously inflated self-confidence “I’m going to marry her”.  In spite of my obvious lack of intelligence and general density, Tia felt sorry for me and married me anyway. This is for her, and also reminiscent of the great times we all had in that house.



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