Haus Music

The new owners of Ortlieb's promise a new look. But will the song remain the same?

by A.D. Amorosi

On a hot day at the end of August 2006, an orange LCB sticker appeared on the glass next to the ramshackle powder blue foyer at Ortlieb's Jazzhaus, one of Philly's few still-standing bastions of old-school jazz cool. Ortlieb's got itself new owners. They're names unrecognizable to those in the jazz know.

NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK: Ortlieb's new bosses Andrey Myketey, Kevin Mayberry and Deependra "Deep" Logani (L-R) at the jazz club's bar. Photo By: Michael T. Regan (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

Deependra "Deep" Logani, Andrey Myketey and Kevin Mayberry weren't Pete Souders, the saxophonist who'd owned Ortlieb's for 19-plus years as a show of his passion for the music.

"My preference was to find someone who wanted to continue running jazz music and with more or less the same format of guys who'd worked there all my years," says Souders. "It got harder to do year after year."

In an ever-expanding NoLibs where Ortlieb's — famed for its nights with area jazz cats Bootsie Barnes, John Swanna and Mickey Roker — stands, questions came to mind.

Like, would it still be haus jazz?

Actually, that was the second question. The first: Are they going to tear down that weird blue hut thing out front?

Word traveled that the new owners would up the ante on the venue's restaurant before a note got ushered. Mayberry — the sole NoLibs inhabitant and the trio member behind the restaurant — hired chef Michael Suminski, who's worked under Mario Batali at Four Seasons Biltmore Hotel in California, ran Thomas' on Main Street in Manayunk and Azure in Northern Liberties. The new owners have provided him with a state-of-the-art kitchen at Ortlieb's. But audiences wanted to know if Ortlieb's would still dedicate itself to local legends like drummer Roker, saxophonist Barnes and trumpeter Swanna — just a few who've made that Haus their home.

We couldn't bare to ask if the new guys were going to keep Ortlieb's furry mascot water buffalo head on the wall.

"Aw, man, give these guys a chance," says Roker with a laugh while heading out the door to rehearse with Swanna for Ortlieb's opening night. "I haven't even played for them yet. So far it's good."

But we needed to know who the new guys were at 847 N. Third St. and what was going on with Souders, and what this would mean for Jazzadelphia.

"We want to keep it," says Logani, talking about "the tradition."

Logani, a 31-year-old Bucks County native, went to Ben Salem High with Myketey, 30, and worked as a waiter with Mayberry, 29, at the Oxford Valley Macaroni Grill when they were teens. Eventually, each twosome became one friendly threesome that made having a nightspot its entrepreneurial goal.

Having a tony restaurant became job No. 1 in Logani's rethinking of Ortlieb's.

"We've always been fans of great music and knew Ortlieb's had already been well established in that manner," says Logani. "But the actual bar/restaurant aspect had been neglected."

They felt they could make Ortlieb's a dining and lounging destination. In order for Ortlieb's to reach its full potential, Myketey craved a face-lift for the old place, "our own personal touch so that we may be able to share the art of jazz and to make it 'cool' to a larger audience."

Some new paint. Some rugs. Some new sounds. They brought Robin Parry to do some NoLa-based booking in accordance with her Philly-to-New Orleans program, perhaps making Ortlieb's a regular stop for Louisiana-based bands like Bonearama (March 23) to play. The trio invited progressive cats like Drake to gig there as well as the likes of Neil Podgurski.

"If they're asking guys like me to play there — and we're not 'jazz' by any stretch of the imagination — I think Ortlieb's may now be moving outside its definition of jazz," says Drake's trumpeter, David Ramsey. "The other stuff before [catered] strictly [to] jazz listeners. I feel a sort of sadness in the thought that they might be moving away from being one of the last bastions of pure jazz music around."

Ask Souders why his Ortlieb's stuck mostly with that brand of jazz — the bop, the swing, the blues, the cool — and he says matter-of-factly: "Nobody else has."

Does this mean the new Ortlieb's will maintain its connection to Philly's jazz elders riffing traditional jazz music?

"I don't really know," says Ramsey. "I just hope the water buffalo is still there."

According to Logani and Myketey, it's their dedication — to the sound, not the buffalo — that sold Souders. Souders heard that the trio had meetings with Philly's jazz lions young and old after he moved on.

"We felt there was a great vibe with world-class musicians being the driving factor," says Logani, who held meetings with many of the musicians — Ortlieb's regulars and jazz-scenesters who hadn't played the Haus — about Ortlieb's future and the artists' future with them.

"We expressed to the owner our desire to continue the tradition of great music which has become synonymous with Ortlieb's," says Logani, who mentioned players like Barnes and Roker as taking part in those fireside chats. "An open line of communication is a policy we intend to keep for the future."

Myketey says that not only did they work closely with Souders then to continue the history of Ortlieb's (a "passing of the torch"), but that "Souders, too, would remain as an adviser for future bookings."

Surprisingly, at present, Logani claims Souders isn't doing much in terms of booking.

That's a surprise to everyone — to Logani, who thought Souders was part of the package; to Souders, who thought he was part of the package; and the jazz community, who assumed so, too.

"He didn't show much enthusiasm — gave us the contacts and wasn't very proactive after that," says Logani. "Besides, he had a pretty set lineup that you could predict week in, week out."

Logani claims there's no animus. Rather, he thinks that Souders, who recently moved to Reading, just wants to retire. "We want to stick with his program. But we want to expand our horizons."

Souders didn't make it to the new Ortlieb's opening — not because of bad blood, but because the 63-year-old was taking his daughter to a volleyball game. "Up here in Kutztown," he laughs. "But I'll get down there soon, playing jam sessions, too."

And in regard to booking, Souders thought, at first, that they wanted him as a part of their ensemble. "Now, I'm not so sure. I told them I'd help book. Or offer my consultation and assistance in any way I can."

So Souders isn't doing it. But then again, he's not not doing it.

"That's about right," says Souders.

Whatever the new guys want, Souders'll do.

"That's what Pete wanted, man — these guys," says Roker, one of this city's keepers of the jazz flame, about Souders' wishes for the club. Roker enthuses about Souders' passion toward the music and toward the Haus he built. "Because Pete's a player, he understands that legacy. The new guys aren't musicians."

So Roker sounds pragmatic as he muses about the new owners. "Are they respectful of that legacy? Of me? It takes time before you know how someone feels about you. But they called me to play."

(a_amorosi@citypaper.net)