This is The Kalamazoo Klub's Tribute page to Bert Jansch who has sadly died.
See an obituary from The Arts Desk here
Bert Jansch: 1943-2011. Remembering the great and inimitable folk guitarist
and from The Guardian here
Innovative, influential guitarist and founder member of the groundbreaking folk band Pentangle
Some memories from Kalamazoo Klub regulars
Really sad. Saw the recent Pentangle gig at RFH, he obviously wasn't well, but it was still a great concert, just an air of sadness. First saw Bert when I arrived in London in the mid-70's as a student, he and John Renbourn played a gig somewhere around Malet Street/Gordon Square. Then got into seeing him again through the 90's/00's, including a couple of favourites: * Christmas gig at Kalamazoo, with Bernard Butler and David Macalmont doing an acoustic set. You auctioned the tickets and I got one in the front row. One of my top 10 concerts ever! * Bert playing at a Somerset House summer concert, Bernard Butler again on the bill and Beth Orton playing and singing with Bert. He kept breaking his strings, Bernard Butler kept changing them for him. Not a bad combination, Bert Jansch on guitar, Bernard Butler as his guitar technician! Loved the way Bert talked to the audience as if you were sitting in his front room, he was a very natural guy.
Peter Morgan
I first saw Bert Jansch in 1966-7 at Les Cousins in Greek st. as an 18 year old who had gone there with my cousin knowing nothing about 'folk music'. I was knocked out by the place and by Bert's guitar playing. I started to go every week and often did not get home until 6a.m as my father was getting up for Church. I have seen Bert Jansch play many times since those days, with Pentangle of course and most recently at the Roundhouse with Beth Orton. I am very saddened by his death. The songs I recall from those early days are on the 'Needle of Death ' E.P.' Running from Home' and 'Tinker's Blues'; Green are your Eyes and The Wheel. I had a guitar teacher who played much of his material very well but I could never quite get through a song of his without a mistake or ten!
Robin Wallace
As a student of the 60’s, based in The London Hospital in East London, I was lucky enough to see Bert Jansch in his earliest days in London. We had a very small folk club in the medical college in the mid 60’s and I remember we invited John Renbourn and Jacqui McShee; they just sat on the floor with their backs to the wall and performed; hearing them live in a rather modest room in the student union building was stunning. Two or three months later at (I think) Poplar Town Hall, or one of the other town halls in the East End, a couple of us went along to hear a name new to us called Bert Jansch. We had no idea what to expect, but when he started playing, my chum and I just looked at each other in total amazement at the sound. He seemed to release the guitar strings so that they landed with a metallic splash of harmonics which, even with the gear of those days, was electrifying as his hand walked up and down the finger-board. Of course I cannot remember accurately those first songs except to recognise “It don’t bother me”. When those three people formed part of the Pentangle that was fantastic. But I still liked Bert best as a soloist; and the same for John; or Bert & John! I saw Bert as much as possible after that. One very simple tune that has forever stuck in my mind was one of his encores at the end of a great evening when he played a short version of “In the Deep Mid Winter”. He seemed to want people to sing along with him but nobody did – instead, we just lapped up the beauty of his playing and his singing. Like many others, I was also lucky enough to talk with him at the 2009 (I think, but it might have been 2008!) Acoustic Avalon in Leicester and relished his Saturday night concert performance. Sadly that is the last time I saw him live, but I’m massively happy to have been around when he was. Thanks to Bert I have a collection of acoustic guitars that I play finger-style, still following my dream that perhaps one day a few milliseconds of my music might sound even vaguely like him!
Long may he be remembered.
Peter Harris
