Cold beer, cool jazz

The neighborhood was dark, except for the neon glow of the lone beer sign in the window of the bar, touting the glories of Yuengling beer. across from the bar there was a small, modern strip mall, looking so bright as to be almost garish in the darkness of the surrounding houses and factory buildings The bar itself was alone, a small rowhome surrounded by the looming hulk of old factory buildings, the remains of one of Philadelphia’s largest and longest lived breweries.

Trupert Ortlieb founded the brewery that carries his name sometime in the 1800s, and when it finally went defunct in the 1980s the Ortlieb’s brewery had buildings scattered throughout this entire city block. The strip mall across the street had been another brewery, Erlangers I believe, that only vestige of which is the clock tower on the small strip mall which took its place, a pale imitation of the real thing.

Now the bar is the only remnant of that proud brewing heritage, a place where the brewery workers used to congregate and enjoy the fruit of their labor, and where residents of the surrounding neighborhoods and the suburbs meet to hear great jazz Although beer made Ortlieb’s a family name, its the spectacular live jazz that keeps it resounding through this small neighborhood.

On a Tuesday night the mix of performers, always eclectic, can be almost magical as graduate music students from the surrounding universities battle the older scions of the neighborhood, some of whom learned by jamming with the likes of Coltrane, Gillespie, or some of the other jazz dignitaries who made Philadelphia their home. Old and sometimes frail, these older men get a new level of energy as their otherwise arthritic fingers glide effortlessly over the keys of their beloved instrument, itself showing the years as clearly as its owner. The moment, when right, can approach magical.

Every city should have an Ortlieb’s.