Intimate, humorous, insightful, informative, and engrossing, the memoir Playing the Changes (a jazz term for improvisation on an existing chord, creating a new, expanding sound that evolves into an ongoing conversation with musicians and the audience) recalls vividly the nearly quarter-century (1983–2006) that the Brubecks spent in Durban at the (now) University of KwaZulu-Natal. The narrative extends and counterpoints through the distinct voices of Darius (son of the legendary musician Dave Brubeck) and his wife Catherine. With prior visits to South Africa in 1976 and 1982, Darius accepted a teaching post in music theory for which he was barely qualified, but, mindful of honoring the jazz “ideals of freedom and struggle against oppression” (3), he secured approval from the African National Congress (ANC) to proceed, despite boycotts initiated by the ANC (1958) and the United Nations (1968). South African jazz, marabi jazz (xii), was already well established and internationally known through musicians such as Hugh Masekela, Miriam Makeba, and Abdullah Ibrahim (known earlier in South Africa as Dollar Brand), but they—and many other black South African jazz musicians—were in exile. The apartheid government had no interest in educating nor nurturing the development of black musicians of any genre, especially not in diploma or degree programs.

In this context, Darius and Catherine, who organized, produced, and scheduled one event after another and sometimes had to raise funds for “tuition, accommodations, instruments, food and even shoes” (52) for promising students while Darius navigated and manipulated an entrenched academic bureaucracy while teaching, established the first jazz degree in South Africa and the Centre for Jazz and Popular Music (CJPM) in 1989. In subsequent years, CJPM became “a global hub” (139) of national and international expansion in jazz education. Gifted students were now routinely going abroad, in various configurations of jazz bands, meeting and, sometimes, in the States, playing with famous African American jazz musicians as well as those on nearly every continent. Many of them, as recounted by the Brubecks, are now not only accomplished, renowned performers, but also teachers of jazz.

Intimate, brief portraits of students, friends, and visiting performers who all played some role in developing the CJPM and its far-reaching impact on jazz in South Africa and abroad permeate this memoir, but Playing the Changes never veers far from their joy in living and playing together toward the Rainbow vision of a New South Africa. Bearing witness to the birth of the new multiracial democracy, significant moments in South Africa’s transformation pepper the narrative. But they also do not shy away from the obstacles that they faced with perseverance and courage: police show up at concerts but sometimes seem a part of the audience, student protests threaten practices, friends and students are robbed and murdered, and the intimidation and violence of apartheid and its aftermath are never far away in the background. When academic rigidity inhibits the goal of educating a performer to his full potential, the Brubecks secure funding for an “adjunct” bar, Trios, to offer more flexibility without the red tape of academia, and jazz education continues to the delight of its patrons.

The tone and mood of Playing the Changes inscribe both exuberance and humility. Although Darius is a well-renowned jazz pianist in his own considerable accomplishments and although Catherine details the travails of tireless “behind-the-scenes” work—in a single year, they had 250 events—to embody their mutual goals to contribute to the New South Africa, their attention focuses on those around them for their invaluable contributions to those goals. Working from press clippings, letters, interviews, and archives as well as their own recollections, the Brubecks clearly value the original score of their time in Durban and the changes that advanced their work. Jazz scholars and enthusiasts alike will find Playing the Changes an indispensable chapter in the history of jazz and jazz education. Those readers with only a passing interest in South African history or jazz, however, will find an even more important testimony than that of an academic innovation: the Brubecks’ compassion and commitment show that two people—willing to give a substantial part of their lives to others—can, indeed, make a tremendous difference in the world, no matter its place nor its oppressive environment.