Life at Washington University often brings me to this compelling crossroads where I have to choose between studying for my upcoming chemistry exam or finishing my 10-page research paper. At times, when I reach my saturation point, I choose to break the monotony and go out for a walk. Last Thursday, I decided to walk all the way from Danforth House to Holmes Lounge at 7:45 p.m., hoping I would make it in time for the 8 p.m. weekly jazz performance. The night promised “An evening with Young Musicians of St. Louis featuring Kevin Cheli, Mark Wallace & the Peter Schankman Band.”

Joachim Vaturi | Student Life

Musicians play at Thursday evening’s Jazz at Holmes Lounge. The weekly event invites students and members of the public to relax and enjoy music.

It was a minute past eight when I entered Holmes Lounge, and I could already hear the low, synchronized sounds of piano and drums. I opened the heavy wooden door expecting a large audience seated in rows, dressed formally, and completely tuned in to the music. What I did not expect was an array of people scattered across the various tables and sofas, some sipping on coffee, some composing music, some finishing their homework, some middle-aged adults absolutely immersed in the music and some even flipping through the pages of the latest Student Life issue! And then, I spotted the stars of the evening—the four musicians enthusiastically playing their instruments, shining under the luminescence of the archaic chandeliers. All right, not all that dramatic, but you get the picture.

The music itself was a melange of vibrant notes, deep bass and ragged rhythms. I felt my worries dissipating in the lively music. I could not help but nod along or sway my shoulders lightly to the grooves and lilts of the music. And it wasn’t just me; everyone was enthralled by the contrasting intensity of loud crescendos and soft tunes—the audience would ring with loud applause after each song. But the musicians would mix up the joyous pieces with somber tunes and low hums that perfectly complemented the mood of the Spanish book I was reading. Yes, I too tried to multitask, partly inspired by the people around me and partly because I could not discern the nuances of the music, even if I focused all my attention on it. Evidently the multitasking did not go as well as planned because I could not get through the book for five minutes without ending up gaping in awe at the musicians.

Kevin Cheli, the drummer, would hit his sticks on the plethora of percussion apparatuses. The bassist Mark Wallace would dexterously switch between plucking the strings with his fingers and bowing deeply, producing a spectrum of distinct notes and mellifluous sounds. The pianist from the Peter Schankman Band would introduce bursts of fast-paced complex tunes in the midst of relatively slow-paced segments, embellishing each note with a unique character. The trumpeter (also from Peter Schankman Band) would weave all the different sounds together and produce a continuity that lingered throughout the elegant ambience. Interestingly, it had that touch of elegance despite being a “lounge” atmosphere and not a formal “concert” setting. And this, I felt, was the best part.

The video on the official website of the “Jazz at Holmes Lounge” series, sponsored by the Department of Music and the University College, explains the conceptualization of the weekly jazz entertainment initiative that has been running strong since the summer of 1998. Applied music instructor Sue Taylor, from the Department of Music, wants audience members “to leave better educated about music than when they came—and certainly about jazz.” I’m not sure I delved into the formalities and conventions of jazz music, although I certainly learned a thing or two about how powerfully it connected people from various backgrounds and various musical interests; it made the event so immensely enjoyable. I walked back to Danforth at 10 p.m., interested and intrigued by the novel experience.