Rhode Island Part 2: Newport Jazz Festival 2023

Continuing with my short trip to RI, plus adding a playlist to take me back to August.

Oct 13, 2023

Driving from New York to Rhode Island was not as bad as expected; it’s not the hellish drive from D.C. to NY, and having to pass NJ traffic, and then potholes getting closer to the city. It’s a straight shot. It took maybe three hours, and since, we left early, we only encountered traffic in Connecticut. We left around 6 or 7 am, I forget. I think my original plan was 5 am, but I wasn’t holding my breath. I always feel like I’m sheep herding when I have to convince my family to leave the house at a precise hour. This time they were better about the time. Over the years, it has become clear: we all struggle with lateness! We often forget last minute items, or we don’t prepare ahead of time, delaying our departure. This has made us severely late to the point of ruining opportunities.

Once in Providence, it was pretty much coasting, since there wasn’t any traffic. We could of stayed in Newport near the waterfront, but almost everything was booked, even months in advance. I checked the Reddit comments, and most people mentioned that booking something around there was close to impossible, unless maybe if your were searching a year ahead. On Airbnb, there were few options left, and the ones appearing were overpriced. Comments mentioned, the parking being hellish, and that it was better to take the bus, or bike if you were close to Fort Adams State Park where the festival was taking place. Someone said they tried the festival parking last year, and it was hellish to leave, so they switched to bikes the following year.

I cannot stress how much I hate parking lots! I’d much prefer biking or walking, but seeing as how we were in Providence—that shit was not going to happen. Our mission was to get to the festival early and leave early to avoid traffic.

Day 1 - Saturday

We left sort of early, though not really, because it was 9 am and we were still in the highway, between a sea of cars, most of them on the way to the festival. Somewhere near Jamestown, I realized the gas meter was low—not just any kind of low—it was on E. How did I not noticed? I was busy rushing everyone, hurrying up my sister and my mom, packing snacks, and I didn’t even check the gas. (I’m clearly reaching grandma levels here.) Search for the closest gas station, I told myself, after I get off this fucking bridge. Please, please car, don’t stall on this bridge. I took the first exit out and landed on Jamestown. I was anxious about finding a gas station, but the blue calmness of the place soothed me like a soft blanket. The town wasn’t completely desolate, so if my car died, someone was bound to help us.

I found a small gas station close by, not a brand I recognized. I called before going, since I’ve been burned before, by closed gas stations on their last leg. It was open and operational. My mom and sister also bought water and went to the bathroom, so it wasn’t a lost cause. We drove away, happy to have stumbled into this picturesque island, and off we went through the bridge over the misty body of water. The clean blue from the water meeting a blue sky.

We arrived just before Camille Thurman started her set, managing to snag a space by the standing area. Most of the chairs were taken except the ones for disabled and and seniors. My mom snagged a seat sometime later, but me and my sister stayed in our spot. At least we were in the shade, but we had to watch out for some snooty, snobby lady in front of us, wearing a full on Lululemon jumpsuit. We got the sense that everyone was pretty territorial about their space, especially the folks sitting on lounge chairs. And if there were any seats available under the tent, you had to just snag it, because no one wanted to stand outside the tents with the sun all in your face.

Late, we saw Superblue which had an improvisational chaotic jazz style that I’m not used to. At some point the heat started to get to my head and the songs were sounding like gibberish, so I went to a shady area and tried using my stool, but they said it wasn’t allowed, so I just sat on the grass and ate my snacks and sparkling hemp drink, then walked over to another shaded area where they had phone chargers, and large comfy couch seats. It was like heaven in a sea of beach lounge chairs during in the sun.

We also saw, The War and Treaty, a couple duo with funk and flair, Julian Lage who’s guitar playing amazed the crowd. We ran towards Thundercat to get to the front. His song choices were eclectic and unexpected, with so many references to cats accompanied by video game beats.

Despite other artist playings, we knew we had to run to see Jon Batiste, because it was going to be crowded. We got there super early and managed to snag a spot right by the stage. Batiste got the crowd moving and shaking, even walking towards the audience and giving us all high fives. His energy was just so contagious, personal, and warm. His performance style was one of the liveliest from the festival. And it got really wild when he took all his band members out for a second line through the audience and danced with everyone. This reminded me of New Orleans, like being back on Frenchmen, or stumbling onto a second line during Mardi Gras.

Everyone stayed until the second line was almost over, or until their legs gave up from so much jumping and dancing.

We hurried with the crowd on the way out, but there was no use, we were leaving with everyone else at the same time, so when we arrived to the car multiple lines of cars were trying to find an exit. There were no traffic signals, or lines like a normal parking lot, because this was a grass field, so it was madness. Eventually there was a line going left, and another right. I wanted to veer left, since we were parked closer to that side, but after waiting for a while, I realized something was off—cars were not moving at all. A driver opened his window and yelled out—“they’re not letting anyone out that way.” Fuck! So, I drove away from the left line and started going the other way, but that’s what everyone else was doing, so all the sudden it was bumper cars. Thankfully, no one hit me. I managed to get into a small side line, branching off from the main one. Someone had mercy and let me in, and we finally had enough room to drive through the only exit outta this mess. The worst was over, so now we just followed the long traffic line towards the main road, and off we were into the highway going back to Providence.

Day 2 - Sunday

During the morning, all signs were pointing that we would be earlier than the prior day, but surprise, surprise, someone needed an emergency pastry breakfast.

We knew the lay out of the festival, after having spent a day at the park, so we felt comfortable searching for shady spots, and also most people seemed nicer about letting you in front of them with the exception. I always let kids cut me so they could be closer to the stage area, since they’re shorter. We were all over the place that day, seeing some artists only for a few songs, staying longer for other ones, and dancing until our feet hurt especially for Cimafunk. We weren’t actually susppose to dance, but some lady got up and everyone else followed, so we couldn’t resist. We saw Adi Oasis who was playing her guitar with a pregnant belly. Totally badass. Also, SOMI, Pedrito Martinez, Melvis Santa & Jazz Orishas, Matthew Whitaker, Herbie Hancock, Cautious Clay. My sis went off to Samara Joy’s concert early on, and found a seat for herself, and then these two nice ladies offered me and my mom seats, and we were able to watch the show without standing. My sis is a big fan of Samara Joy, so we stayed for the entire performance, then made the line to meet her, and got a signed copy of her record.

We left early, having learned our lesson from the previous night, and escaped just before the full crowds. We stopped in Newport and walked toward the water, as sunset was approaching. I parked by car not too far from Thames Street, the main street, but first I wanted to check the marina, but not everyone was up for walking. “How long will it take to get there?” I heard from the peanut parade. Once we arrived to the water it was worth it, seeing the boats and the sun coming down, turning the sky orange, we stayed for a little while. We saw someone walking by with their dog. We kept walking down Thames, most of the day-time stores were closed, but the restaurants, ice cream shops and a few souvenir shops were still open, and plenty of people walking around. We stumbled onto The Red Parrot, built in 1898, listed on the National Register of Historical Places. There was an eeriness to the place, probably worsened by the night sky. It had three levels with large windows, and dark green plants surrounding the first level, everything was wooden, with a dark interior and fainted candle lights on each floor. When we walked in, we weren’t sure if we were going to be able to see our food. Also, oddly enough, it felt like walking onto a ship. The food was pretty good, a mix of seafood and other New England dishes (clam chowder, lobster rolls, etc.), but maybe that was just the starvation talking. I had been snacking on granola bars and fruits for most of the day.

I made a playlist with all these jazzy, funky muscians from the Newport Jazz Festival:

Writing Opportunities:

Timid Shorts

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