SUNDAY AT THE ROOST: A JAZZ NIGHT WITH TIANXIAO WANG

Step into the world of Tianxiao Wang, an aspiring jazz musician from China as he navigates New York City’s music scene, one gig at a time.

“Should I kill the music?” asks the bartender behind the counter to a group of four musicians who are busy setting up at one corner of The Roost, a daytime café and nighttime bar situated on the edge of the East Village. One of them looks up, delivers a quick nod, then returns to his previous posture — bending down, adjusting the knobs on the speaker by his feet. The bartender turns off the pop song that was playing. Minutes later, live jazz music fills the air.

The performing quartet consists of a drummer, a saxophonist, a bassist, and a guitarist, with the last being Tianxiao Wang, a Chinese international student studying Jazz Guitar at the New School, a private university nearby.

Three years ago, with a guitar on his back and dreams of becoming a jazz musician in his heart, Wang hopped on a 16-hour flight and arrived in New York City, where he gradually settled into his groove as a young guitarist, his days packed with school, practice, and gigs. Wang isn’t alone: among the million international students in the U.S., Chinese students made up the largest contingent, constituting 27.4% of the total population. China has been the leading country of origin for international students in the U.S. for 14 years and running, and New York is second only to California in number.

Just like many other international students, Wang spent the first 18 years of his life at home and decided to further perfect his professional pursuit by studying abroad. However, his field of study was chosen by fewer than 4% of the international students.

Awake at 9 a.m. in his Brooklyn apartment, Wang spends the morning practicing guitar and going to the gym. “I always spend at least eight hours a day practicing,” says Wang. “It’s not that everybody does that. It’s just me — I guess I just have bigger dreams to pursue.”

After lunch, Wang attends musical sessions at school before heading to The Roost with Connor Sondergeld, a bassist who also attends the New School. Performing gigs one to two times every week has become a regular routine for Wang, and this is his first time at The Roost. Introduced by a friend who knew the drummer, Dimi Ditrow, Wang brought Sondergeld with him as Ditrow was looking for a guitarist and a bassist for the night’s show.

Ditrow and the saxophonist recognize Wang and Sondergeld as they walk in by the instruments they carry. They exchange looks, then go on to set up the equipment. “We don’t really talk about the show, because we are professional musicians and we know how to make the show work,” says Wang, addressing the way they skip the small talk.

Wang’s guitar bears the resemblance of a violin. He bought it second-hand from a friend last summer, calling it “Victor” because it was originally custom-made by the brand Victor Baker in 2018. A strip of blue cloth wraps around the neck of the guitar.

“It follows my main guitar,” says Wang, who’s been keeping this tradition for over four years. He first purchased the strip of cloth online as a mere decoration. Ever since he put it on one of his earliest guitars, the strip of cloth has become an essential part of his musical journey.

At 7 p.m., the quartet sounds the first note promptly. Opening with a slow song, Wang leans on the bar table behind him, one foot crossing in front of the other, looking chill in his white shirt with a pattern of arrows, a pair of khaki pants and blue and white moccasins, his long black hair tied into a low bun.

Slightly nodding his head from time to time, Wang’s posture appears calmer than his fellow performers’: the saxophonist swings back and forth while the bassist folds his upper body down and down with twisted brows and curved lips — expressions of utmost enjoyment. The first song ends on emphasized drum beats, the audience applaud, and the musicians put their heads together to decide what to play next from the repertoire.

“Something faster?” suggests Wang, raising his eyebrows with excitement, and the melody of “I’ll Remember April” soon flows in the room. As the song picks up tempo, Wang sways with his head tilted and his shoulders heaving; his fingers flicker on the guitar strings, bringing life to the notes. His eyes are on his hands for most of the time, but sometimes he’d exchange thoughts with the saxophonist through a quick wink, or wait for the drummer to hit a specific beat where he’d join in, or smile at Sondergeld, who’d smile back, sharing mutual approval of each other’s performances.

“It feels good because Wang always listens and is communicative,” says Sondergeld, who has been collaborating with Wang for two years. “Playing at The Roost is a fun experience because we’ve never played with that drummer before. We are slowly figuring everybody out.”

The Roost has a three-section design: the room at the entrance serves as the café and bakery, the middle area is for work and studying, and the bar room in the back is where live music is performed at night. Notices on the barn doors that separate the work area from the bar write, “No Laptops beyond this point.” The Roost also has a piece of paper attached to its front door, stating, “AFTER 4, COFFEE AND ESPRESSO ARE NO MORE. AFTER 6, THAT’S WHEN WE ARE ALIVE.”

Inside the bar, the musicians play against the backdrop of a brick wall with a neon sign in the shape of a coffee bean inside a glowing cocktail glass, accompanied by the caption, “MR-BLACK.” A dimly lit lamp hangs above, and deeper on the ceiling hides a mirrorball that has no chance to shine its metallic light on a jazz night.

Two audience members dance their way into the room to join a group of friends celebrating birthday. Further back in the corner a couple are chatting, and a lady with her laptop in the next room has her fingers tapping along with the rhythm of the song. By the table right behind Wang sits Hongyang Zhou, Wang’s high school friend who is currently studying at Cornell Tech.

“I can’t really tell good jazz from bad jazz,” says Zhou apologetically. “But I’m here for the vibe, and of course, my friend.”

As the song transitions to “Cherokee,” Zhou lifts her glass of “Oh She Cute” midair but forgets to drink — her attention is seized by the saxophonist. “See how he can keep such a long breath!” she wonders. “That must’ve taken a lot of practice.”

After a couple of failed attempts to hold her breath as long as the saxophonist, Zhou gives up, sips her drink and resumes recording videos of Wang, uploading some of them to her Instagram stories.

“Things I do for a musician friend,” she chuckles, then puts her phone face down on the table to concentrate on the performance.

At around 8 p.m., Ditrow announces a short break. Wang puts down Victor and walks over to greet Zhou, who arrived shortly after the show begins. Having performed at eight different venues in New York thus far, including Bar Bayeux and Land to Sea in Brooklyn and the Walker Hotel in Manhattan, the number of audience this night seems smaller compared to the other gigs Wang had been to — only eight people plus Zhou, whom the performers have already asked for tips from at the beginning of the break.

“That’s important,” says Wang, his eyes landing on the board with their Venmo barcode on. “Of course we play for music, but the more tips the still merrier.” Luckily for them, more customers have arrived during the second half of the show. When a group of four walk in in the middle of a song, even the music appears to get livelier.

At 10p.m., the last song finishes precisely on time. The audience are still drinking and chatting as Wang puts Victor back in its case, bends down once again to unplug the speaker and shakes hands with Ditrow and the saxophonist — a gesture marking another successful performance.

“Not enough gigs, there’s never enough,” says Wang. “My bigger dreams are to reach a deeper level of music making and play with better people at better venues.”

Walking out of The Roost with the guitar on his back, the end of Sunday becomes another step Wang has taken towards achieving his dream. What awaits him is an L train ride back to Brooklyn and a final round of guitar practice before he answers the summon of slumber and begins a brand new week.