My friends could confirm this. I love gypsy jazz.
I love watching Alfonso Ponticelli’s fingers fly over his guitar strings, invoking the spirit of Django Reinhardt. I love the vibration of the violin singing through my body as I watch the violinist’s shadow on the wall, dipping and heaving, surrendered to the passion of the music like a willow tree moving in the wind.
I shared my enthusiasm for this genre of music to friend of a friend over a slice of pizza couple weeks ago. She told me about Bowmanville, a local band, consisting of a classically trained violinist, a guitarist, and a seasoned singer who also blows the harmonica.
I looked them up online and found out they that were going to play a show this past Friday at The Drifter.
I checked out their version of Saint James Infirmary on their website. I texted my intentions to catch this show to a few friends and found one who agreed to meet me there.
The Drifter, per their website, is an authentic 1920s speakeasy. It’s in the basement of The Green Door, a tavern and sports bar just north of the Chicago River, not far (in minutes or miles) from downtown businesses and high-end shopping.
After parking, I looked around the building for an entrance. Nada.
I slipped through the main door and looked for signs directing me to the subterranean lounge which was where the music was supposed to be. I saw TVs scattered throughout, behind the bar and above plastic coated checkered tablecloths. They were turned on to the White Sox game.
I was stumped. I ended up asking the waitress.
Where’s The Drifter?
She pointed to a staircase to the basement and told me where I’d find the door. The door looked like a primitive bookshelf built into a wall.
So, that was the deal. You had to know the place was there, and ask for directions, before you could enter. I guess that was part of the speakeasy experience.
I followed a waiter through the door. He was bringing something from the kitchen to a patron. It was like stepping back in time.
The Drifter was a long narrow alley of a bar with artifacts, like rusted over-sized roadside Coco-Cola signs, on the walls. A small stage opposite the door was home to a whitish upright piano. Old movies of scantily clad dancers, flickering like a Keystone Cops reel, was projected on a scrim behind the stage.
My eyes had to get used to the dark. I looked around for my friend who had already found a table.
The drink specials were printed on uniquely designed tarot cards. I decided on something with raspberry liqueur, vodka, and ginger beer. The menu of snacks was out of the ordinary too. Deviled eggs and cheese curds. It was not a wings and potato skins kind of place.
As advertised, Bowmanville took the stage at 7:00. They looked right at home in the time machine that was the venue. They played for 15 minutes and explained to the crowd that they’d be back at 9:00.
What? Their website announced the show ran 7:00-9:30. I came out specifically to hear two sets of gypsy jazz. I didn’t realize their appearance was part of a burlesque show. At 8:00, in between more old-time, slightly blue movies, we were entertained by a belly dancer.
I could have been mad, or resentful. After all, I came out with something specific in mind. But I chose not to be upset.
I didn’t get to hear two sets of music I adore. No swing violinist version of Besame Mucho or Honey Suckle Rose.
But I did get to order a cocktail I would never think of asking for anywhere else (don’t think I could name all the ingredients, anyway). I did get to see a fine belly dancer. I felt like a real insider for finding this under the radar drinking emporium. And, between the flickering black and white images, and 20s and 30s décor, I got to step back in time.
Being able to accept changes in plans and find enjoyment in what’s in front of you is no small thing.
Sounds like my kind of place…..I guess I missed another interesting evening.
Was she a Greek Belly Dancer (skimpy shear outfit with lots of beading on a bra top with lots of cleavage and skin showing) or a Tribal Belly Dancer (long full skirts w/tassels at waist, covered chest, headdress, lots of chunky silver necklaces, bracelets & hip band, sometimes dancing with a sword)??