“The hidden things, the subconscious lets you know. You feel this, you play this.” — Ornette Coleman, free jazz pioneer
Inspired by the Filipino word for “hidden” or “secret”, Tago Jazz in 14 Main Avenue in Cubao, Quezon City, was founded by Nelson Gonzales in 2011, motivated by the fact that no other Metro Manila space at the time offered live acts for jazz music.
“We started building Tago in my grandma’s house. It was pretty small at the beginning — [around] 20 people — and it was already packed,” Gonzales recalled. “Season one of Tago ended after just a few months. It was not working then, so my business partners – CJ Serrano, Jewel Senador, Mike Gueco, and my older brother, Butch Gonzales – and I had to halt everything in the fourth quarter of 2011.”
He continued the next year with minimal to no funding until 2018, when the old house — which was no bigger than a two-car garage — began falling apart. The Tago community organized a string of fundraisers and love poured in to help with the reconstruction of the space. In 2019, the rebuilding process began with the help of Gonzales’ life partner, Katherine Sy, who secured the necessary funding for the renovation.
Nine months and several loans later, Tago Jazz was rebuilt from scratch and was once again serving fresh live jazz. Then the pandemic hit, which ground Tago to a halt once more. It reopened in 2022, then the desperation of upkeeping jazz became Gonzales’ way of life. Surely enough, Tago morphed into something “more than just a business of serving cold beers and live jazz.” It became his life mission and homage to the brilliance of Filipino musicians. “Now, we are in an opportune time to introduce jazz to a younger generation,” Gonzales said.
I first visited Tago one Sunday in March 2022, invited by a good friend — a second year med student who studied jazz guitar, earning a biweekly residency at the bar. The Tago Jazz Collective, the bar’s resident band, offered the perfect introduction for someone like me who was visiting the space for the first time. Tago Jazz Collective rotates between a regular cast of cool cats, which, that night, included lowkey legends like Nikki Cabardo on keys, who was once part of the Davaoeño R&B group Freestyle; bassist Bergan Nuñez and vocalist Faye Yupano of Project Yazz, known for their jazz interpretations of Original Pilipino Music; Tago regular and guitarist Slidey Slims and Tago’s Gonzales on drums. Their amazing chemistry shined on their individual talent, and listening to live music with friends that evening, two years into the pandemic, felt like my first night out ever.
Being somewhere new is a universal, often nerve-wracking experience. Thankfully, it has always led me to good friends. After the band’s first set, there is normally a 30-minute intermission, involving a cigarette break that transforms into an intimate hangout with the musicians and audience, discussing complex keys and notations like it’s as simple as the weather. With the help of a bottle of Red Horse, my ardor for jazz deepened through the musicians’ openness to share space with me — an improvised, conversational jam by the ashtrays outside, which became as integral to the night as the performances on stage.
At Tago, there is little to no division between the music and the people, regardless of their excellence. That night unknowingly sparked meaningful and lasting friendships and while it was all seemingly mundane, that’s precisely where its charm lies.
A place to call home
“The story of Pinoy Jazz is one written with global implications, that the Filipino musician is world-class.” — Wayne Enage, narrating in the film Pinoy Jazz: The Story of Jazz in the Philippines
It is November 2024 and it was another Sunday night in Tago Jazz. Pete Canzon, a fixture in the local jazz scene, was set to perform. A saxophonist, Canzon is a close collaborator of singer-songwriter Freddie Aguilar, and has been part of several jazz bands, including Genesis Band and Xenelasia with Ang Probinsiyano actor Jaime Fabregas (vocals and guitar), as well as the Batucada Band with Bong Peñera, who pioneered a Filipino take on the bossa nova genre. Canzon notes in his biography that he pursued his solo career in 2011, the same year Tago opened, “just to see what’s out there for Filipino jazz.”
Jazz is subtle — sometimes hidden, but mostly intangible. Just like love, emotion, and music, there are secrets to how life’s mysteries are played out. We improvise and endure to find its rhythm.
Canzon was accompanied by a band that included, once again, Tago’s Gonzales on drums. Together, they performed like old friends reuniting, covering tracks like Grover Washington Jr.’s smooth jazz trademark, “Mister Magic”, the timeless “Lovely Day” by Bill Withers and even The Champs’ surf rock earworm, “Tequila” — their synergy making these soulful classics feel fresh.
It was time for the cigarette break once again where I was reintroduced to Project Yazz’s Yupano, the vocalist of Tago Jazz Collective during my first visit in 2022. Among the many things we discussed by the ashtrays outside, one was what Tago meant to her. With no hesitation in her voice, she immediately replied, “Home.” When I asked Seth, one of the waiters, the same question, he replied with ”house” instead of “home,” because it was actually his residence, being the nephew of Gonzales.
We went back inside as Canzon and his band began their second set. Their performance embodied a deeper, more fluid style, characterized by elements of swing, modal jazz, and bebop. The music was impressive and evoked a sense of giddiness among the audience — including myself. Yupano shared that the cover tracks were simply a warmup, helping ease into their true sonic habitat.
After the performance, Canzon personally thanked everyone in the room — including Chel Diokno, the prominent human rights lawyer. I saluted to Canzon, and asked what Tago meant to him. He pointed at the painting in the middle of the stage — a colorful, yet traditional depiction of the old home that once housed Tago, which I learned was actually painted by him. He gave an answer I had heard before: “Home.”
When the two sets of the invited musicians are done, there is an indefinite break until someone decides to open the jam. During this open-ended intermission, Nuñez, who played the bass during my first visit to Tago, invited me to sit with his band, Project Yazz, which consisted of bassist Gabe Cabonce, Kurt Acosta on guitar, drummer and percussionist Jacques Dufort, and Lui Tan on keys. They initiated the after-session, offering their interpretation of Kamasi Washington’s spiritual jazz number “Desire.” Not only was their performance tightly cinched, but they gladly played to a room of less than ten people — all of whom happily matched their energy.
Imagining Filipino jazz
In 2014, Tago’s efforts were recognized by The United Nations Education, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) on International Jazz Day, which takes place every April 30. The acknowledgment included a letter to Gonzales by none other than legendary American jazz musician Herbie Hancock, commending his dedication to sustaining jazz in the Philippines.
Gonzales believes that Filipino jazz — its sagacity and excellence – is on the verge of discovery. Of course, many artists already exist: Take Bobby Enriquez, whose virtuosic, high-energy piano style dubbed him the name, “The Wildman of Jazz.” There’s also vibist and pianist Emil Mijares, who has performed alongside American jazz artist Nat King Cole, or Bob Avez whose compositions fused jazz elements with indigenous music — among many, many others. But the connection between jazz and the wider Filipino culture has not been fully fleshed out, Gonzales points out. He adds that the love and respect for traditional roots can open us up to new ways of creativity — stories that, through music, can communicate the honest and irrefutable self.
Jazz is subtle — sometimes hidden, but mostly intangible. Just like love, emotion, and music, there are secrets to how life’s mysteries are played out. We improvise and endure to find its rhythm. The magic of Tago Jazz is the music, of course — more precisely, it is the spirit of the people that make the space. The notes played every night express the energies that are felt and transmuted by the people of Tago. “My love for jazz, its intricacies, and my compassion for my fellow artists go beyond the call of sacrifice,” Gonzales declared. “What I do now still feels lacking compared to the brilliance and promise that our local artists have.”
But as the American trumpeter and vocalist Louis Armstrong is often quoted, “If you have to ask what jazz is, you’ll never know.”
