Home » Jazz Articles » Profile » Tula's Jazz Club: Soliloquy to a Seattle Jazz Institution
Tula's Jazz Club: Soliloquy to a Seattle Jazz Institution

Courtesy Daniel Sheehan
Opening the door to the club from the sun drenched pavement, to the intimate, lowly lit confines of this historic Seattle jazz spot is like entering another realm, an alternate reality. There was a buzz in the room, even with the first set still an hour away into the distant night.
An hour later revealed the source of the intense anticipation in the room.

Jay Thomas
saxophone, tenorb.1949

George Cables
pianob.1944

Gary Smulyan
saxophone, baritoneb.1956

Matt Wilson
drumsb.1964

Michael Glynn
bass, acousticWhile the stage at Tula's is largely occupied with the deep talent pool that currently resides in Seattle, it is commonplace to see international jazz stars stop in to Tula's to share in the wealth of talent here. In the past quarter century, the likes of

Wynton Marsalis
trumpetb.1961

Roy Hargrove
trumpet1969 - 2018

Hadley Caliman
saxophone1932 - 2010

Larry Fuller
pianob.1965

Clarence Penn
drumsb.1968

Joe Locke
vibraphoneb.1959

Gary Bartz
saxophone, altob.1940

Orrin Evans
pianob.1975

Eric Revis
bassb.1967

Ralph Peterson
drums1962 - 2021
Stepping outside into the night, there was a young woman seated outside the club appearing distant, reflective. The music poured out of the room onto the sidewalk on Second Avenue with a certain intensity, Smulyan projecting his deep throated sound into the Seattle night. Cables, Glynn, and Wilson surged along as a veritable rhythmic pulse, Thomas playing counterpoint on flugelhorn, a deep look of joy and satisfaction on his face. The young woman noticed me exiting the club, smiled broadly and said, "So THIS is jazz beautiful." I smiled, and told her there should be a seat opening up at the set break. She would later tell me she had never experienced jazz before, and that taking in the second set changed how she "thought about music." Delightfully I shared with her that I had heard that often at jazz gigs, and that everyone in the room had experienced the same. She left with the same smile she greeted me with upon first chancing upon her seated on the sidewalk leaning against the outside wall of the club being drawn in by the music.
With the onset of the long summer days of July, the jazz community was burdened with the sad news that the club would be closing its doors for good after the last performance in September. The news sent a shock wave through the community despite the fact that everyone knew of the eventuality of the closing, and the destruction of yet another historic neighborhood in favor of high rise, high priced apartments, and flavor of the month corporate retail. Waldron and manager Jason Moore had dealt with the stress of operating the club without a lease, to the point of trepidation in terms of investing and making badly needed improvements to the room. The Yamaha grand piano that graces the stage needed attention, as well as the sound system. The website needed modernization, and the lighting needed an upgrade.
Jason Moore came to Seattle from his native North Carolina, by way of Cocoa Beach, Florida. He was maitre d' of a restaurant that featured jazz and was frequented by a Navy acquaintance of Waldron, bassist "Rabbit" Simmons. That connection led to Moore being hired to improve the economic standing of the club, which Waldron had kept afloat at times with his own money. He understood then, as he does now, of the importance of the club to the sustainability of jazz music in Seattle, and the well being of the artists that create it. His motivation was his love for the music. Bringing in Moore to pull off the band aids and replace them with new revenue streams was rooted in that love and sense of responsibility to the jazz community. He most certainly could have retired then and there, but bringing in Moore with the idea of him taking over the business at the current location seemed to be a way to continue the Tula's tradition well into the 21st century. Moore loved the music and his new home in Seattle, and so the patrons and musicians who frequented the club saw nothing but a bright future for a venue seemingly on the rise, with the then 33 year old Moore at the helm.
Moore began to apply his hands on approach to managing the club, changing the decor to a true night club look and vibe, adding higher end cuisine to the menu, and featuring fine wines and liquors. He worked every angle conceivable, brokering deals with liquor sales associates, skillfully managing personnel, and hiring the top tier of jazz talent in the city and beyond. To that end, he relied on the knowledge of long-time Seattle jazzers, such as trumpeter

Thomas Marriott
trumpetb.1975

John Bishop
drumsb.1959

Greta Matassa
vocalsb.1962

Bill Anschell
pianob.1959

Marc Seales
pianob.1963

Jovino Santos Neto
pianob.1954

Gail Pettis
vocals
Susan Pascal
vibraphoneGone were the three set nights, whittled down to two. The late night sets ended, as did happy hour, as Moore concentrated on smaller staff, and more focus on a 7:30 dinner set, followed by a 9:00 cocktail set. The weekly Monday night jam session ended, with Moore closing the club Mondays to give dedicated employees a guaranteed day off each week. This enabled him to maintain a long term wait staff in the unique environment of the traditional jazz supper club. It's as if staff members are half waitperson, and half family, welcoming friends and valued guests. The welcoming vibe and quiet attention one receives from long time Tula's employee Alana Lloyd will be missed just as the music will be, and the many friends one finds gathered there. Lloyd became a true friend of the jazz community, something that will not end when the club closes its doors.
There is no foyer at Tula's, much less a lobby. The swinging wooden doors are all that separate the infinite confines of a classic jazz spot, with the shuffling, wayward flow of the street beat in the heart of Belltown. The block where the club is situated includes an almost disparate variety of bars and restaurants under the shadow of a ramshackle apartment house that is the last standing structure dating back to Seattle before the massive Denny regrade project leveled the area that includes the Second Avenue strip. On the north end bordered by Bell Street, Mama's Kitchen served Mexican food and strong drinks, at prices musicians could afford. Often the evening hang would begin there for artists performing at the club. Mama's closed recently, open only for private events, they as well feeling the heat of imminent demise. Next door, Rocco's Restaurant and Bar is planning a move north on Second Avenue. Often a late night hang for Tula's patrons, there is typically a line to get a spot in the New York style pizzeria. The south end of the block is occupied by the famed Crocodile, the anointed ground zero of the grunge movement of the '90s. In the same way that Tula's has created a stage for up and coming Seattle jazz artists, The Crocodile has done the same for the vaunted Seattle rock scene. Bands like Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains and R.E.M all cut their respective teeth there. The tradition continues strongly, with national touring acts added to the mix.
The neighborhood vibe that surrounds Tula's has a character and vibrant funk that will be lost forever once the wrecking ball levels this hub of Seattle nightlife. On a given evening, music spills out onto the street, while the avenue hums with activity. Standing outside of Tula's you can hear the music venting out of the Croc, interspersed with the post-bop sounds emanating from the club. For a time, an upstairs club across the avenue offered a hip hop open mike that would as well add to the blend of pulses and sounds occupying the marine drenched air of the Seattle night. Hustlers work their way up and down Blanchard between Second and Third Avenues often in a mad frenzy offering heroin, or meth in plain fashion, prospective buyers lined up along the narrow sidewalk in the sad night. Panhandlers converge on the strip looking for cash carrying nightlifers, eyeing each and everyone who passes by the neighborhood weed store, as well as every cash carrying business along the strip.
Young, well dressed couples, silver haired patrons dressed in their finery, hipsters of a more casual nature, seasonal tourists, traveling hotel patrons, and local jazz aficionados all make up the diverse mix of souls in Tula's each evening. Jazz historically has attracted fans of all ages, the attraction being the music, the ultimate form of spontaneous expression. The music speaks to the soul, all souls. It doesn't identify generationally as many popular forms. There is a common language being spoken to all that care to listen. The people who walk through those doors each night, musicians and jazz fans alike, will share in the loss after the last downbeat at Tula's on September 29, 2019.
Walking into Tula's as a patron, then as a journalist and club publicist, my first objective has always been to see who is seated at the large round table situated past the bar, next to the kitchen. The club does not have a green room, so the table serves as a gathering spot for musicians to prepare for the evening performance, have a bite to eat, and a drink to calm the nerves. During the show, musicians wander in and gather there to hang as well. Many musical acquaintances and friendships have been formed there. It is a place of pure fellowship, where familiarity gives way to fresh faces.
Directly above the table is the sign from the legendary Seattle record shop, Bud's Jazz Records. A Pioneer Square institution for decades, owner Bud Young was a close friend of Waldron's. The sign touts "Jazz In All Its Forms," something that could be said of the club where the last memory of Bud's resides. Indeed, the urn with Young's remains occupies an honored spot at Tula's. Waldron and Young represent the best in jazz personage. Their vision was driven by passion for the music itself, creating more than long term businesses under difficult circumstances. It created institutions that allowed a great American art form to thrive. It inspired artistic risk and original creation. It presented to the Seattle arts community its own treasure within its own ranks pushing forward America's quintessential art form.
While most American cities have jazz clubs that feature touring national and international artists, very few clubs are dedicated to jazz performed by resident artists. While they operate under very different business models, Smalls Jazz Club in New York, and Tula's in Seattle best represent this dedication to local resident musicians. Seattle lost another such dedicated landmark in the New Orleans Creole Restaurant in the Pioneer Square neighborhood. When owner Gaye Anderson passed in August of 2012, her family decided to close the storied club that featured jazz and blues. Though the building that housed the club is protected in Seattle's most historic neighborhood, the day to day rigors of operating the club did not interest them. The property is now divided into two businesses. Gone are the portraits of jazz legends that adorned the brick wall behind the stage. The room has memories that include visits from dignitaries such as

Dizzy Gillespie
trumpet1917 - 1993

Don Lanphere
saxophone1928 - 2003

Phil Sparks
bass
Julian Priester
tromboneb.1935

Mark Taylor
composer / conductorb.1961

Matt Jorgensen
drumsb.1972
The New Orleans had entered the fray, just as John Dimitriou was planning to move his club, Jazz Alley, from its digs on University Way, to its current downtown location. Gaye Anderson's club kept jazz in Pioneer Square, after the demise of Parnell's and the Pioneer Banque, two jazz clubs just a few short blocks apart near First Avenue and Occidental. Parnell's was briefly Ernestine's before calling it quits, leaving Jazz Alley, with its now increased seating capacity as the lone purveyor of touring jazz artists.
Dimitriou's amazing run has surpassed 40 years, closing in on the Black and Tan club, once an iconic spot on Jackson St. The Black and Tan opened in 1922, and closed in 1966, along the way seeing the likes of

Eubie Blake
piano1887 - 1983

Duke Ellington
piano1899 - 1974

Louis Jordan
saxophone, alto1908 - 1975

Lena Horne
vocals1917 - 2010

Ray Charles
piano and vocals1930 - 2004

Charlie Parker
saxophone, alto1920 - 1955
These two dizzying runs are followed by Tula's, and its nearly 26 year tenure. In many ways, Mac Waldron's club has an even more remarkable history. It has remained open six or seven nights a week, featuring exclusively jazz music performed by Seattle and Northwest based musicians. There is no filling the coiffures with rhythm and blues acts, or pop orientations of any sort. The stage is each night occupied by musicians of the highest caliber playing jazz in all its forms. All in all, the club has staged over 600 sets in the past year, giving Seattle musicians a place to allow the music to grow, and be paid to do so. The void the club will leave in its absence is cavernous.
And so it goes. It would seem there is an all out assault on historic Seattle performance venues. While the fate of the Showbox near Pike Place Market gets most of the headlines concerning the matter, the city lost its only viable blues club at the end of the calendar year of 2018. Highway 99 Blues Club was in many ways like Tula's in that it provided a place for the local scene to flourish. Snuggled up against the Highway 99 viaduct for 12 years, the demise of the viaduct turned an affordable basement room into valuable waterfront real estate. While performers will scatter to rooms such as Egan's Ballard Jam House, and the Royal Room, the loss of Tula's will need to spur some creative thought and investment to replace the number of dates the club provided annually. Pop-up clubs are a possibility until some sort of permanence is created in a new venue. But for the Seattle jazz scene, the loss of any downtown venue is a big blow in terms of visibility, and in terms of having the opportunity to make a viable living as a musician.
There are some who believe that once music is played in a room, the notes and sounds remain there forever. A building can be demolished but still the spirit of that music remains. One can still feel the vibe of Parnell's Jazz Club in Seattle in its current incarnation as an art gallery. The sounds of

Bill Evans
piano1929 - 1980

Milt Jackson
vibraphone1923 - 1999

Ernestine Anderson
vocals1928 - 2016

Cedar Walton
piano1934 - 2013

Marc Seales
pianob.1963

Susan Pascal
vibraphoneTula's was recognized as one of the top jazz clubs in the 2019 All About Jazz Venue poll. View results.
Read our past articles about Tula's Jazz Club.
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Paul Rauch
Jay Thomas
George Cables
Gary Smulyan
Matt Wilson
Michael Glynn
wynton marsalis
Roy Hargrove
Hadley Caliman
Larry Fuller
Clarence Penn
Joe Locke
Gary Bartz
Orrin Evans
Eric Revis
Ralph Peterson
Thomas Marriott
John Bishop
Greta Matassa
bill anschell
Marc Seales
Jovino Santos Neto
Gail Pettis
Susan Pascal
Mark Taylor
Matt Jorgensen
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