Grooving at Ronnie Scott’s: London’s Premier Jazz Club

By Michelle Fang


Tap-tap—taptaptap! My fingers start thumping across the table of its own accord. At first I am conscious of its movement as it taps with the melody, but soon it starts exhibiting a life of its own, forming patterns within the melody as it is swept up in the heat of the moment. Last week, I was fortunate enough to be invited to enjoy one of the best jazz experiences that London has to offer: Ronnie Scott’s.

 Accentuated by dark red velvets and deep mahogany wood, Ronnie Scott’s jazz club was the epitome of soulful glamour and class interlaced with a tinge of naughty pinks emitted by small lamp-lights placed at each table. As I entered into the club, the combination of these colors struck me with its aura, the aura of glamour and seduction with soft jazz music crooning in the background.

The two levels of Ronnie Scott’s each offered vastly different musical experiences. The main level was structured in such a way to enhance the performance space. The downward slopping structure of the room seemed to pull the audience towards the center stage, where a grand Yamaha piano, bass, and percussion were crammed onto the narrow stag as if to signify a form of forced chaotic intimacy among the jazz performers. The host introduced each jazz piece with a background story, contextualizing the song so that audience members may feel the emotional message that the performers were trying to convey. One of my favorites of the night was Billie Holiday’s “Don’t Explain” which the host introduced as the moment the Billie Holiday took one look at her husband after he came home with lipstick smeared on his shirt collar, said, “don’t explain.” There was a real effort made towards establishing a sensual connection between the performer and the audience.

The upper floor offered a more intimate experience between the performers and the audience. An obvious distinction was the enclosed performance space; audience members surrounded the performers in a half circle, providing vocal feedback and applause to every solo performance.

What enthralled me more was the absolute improvisation of the entire performance. Each performer showcased their unique improv talents and as a group collaborated fluidly to transition to each solo performance. Although the etiquettes of jazz performance were foreign to me, I sensed that each performer was mindful of his comrades, mutually shining spotlights on each other as if to boasts each others’ talents.

What especially appealed to me was the vibrancy of the atmosphere, the uncertainty one gets with improvisation. Because improvisation is a subjective act, the performers relied on vocal audience feedback to generate a feel of what is appealing or what is not. The fast-paced jazzy night air was frequently punctuated by cat calls or short bursts of applause.  Much of the performance aspect was so “in the moment” that as an audience member, one simply cannot hold expectations, but rather, must learn to surrender to the moment, as both performers and audience members were swept up by the music. Among those so taken by the soulful atmosphere was the host, who in a fitful rage of spontaneity, jumped into the performance and started belting out his own rendition of an improvised piece. The way he sung resonated within me, as if his emotions had become tangible and I could reach out and capture them. Furthermore, the uncontrollable tapping of each limb and finger was a performance of its own and what I felt contributed to the real performance overall or rather my subjective experience of it. Truly, I would call my experience at Ronnie Scott’s unique to London’s Soho neighborhood and as a long time Pianist, such an experience had awakened my very own passion for the music.