When I had freshly moved to Toronto for university, I vowed to get myself acquainted with this city’s grid of streets. Being a naturally competitive person, I took this as a challenge: knowing my neighbourhood became a game I started to play where I would rehearse street names and remember their notable features. I would try to recognize their storefronts, wanting to know this city’s twists and turns like the back of my hand. After turning around an unfamiliar street corner, I would ignore my disorientation. I was not lost. I was determined to win the game against the city, to not admit defeat, and to master this place inside and out.

This endeavour, though quite fun, was also exhausting. The senses are heightened once you step outside your door. Your eyes latch onto buildings, sidewalks, shops, and streetcars while your ears catch the sounds of people and their chatter, cars and their honking. Tiredness creeps in like a slow-moving subway rolling into the station, settling in the tracks. The constant walking, walking, walking—I don’t think I’ve ever been so fit in my life from all the treks I’ve made in this city.

Believe it or not, I did not move to Ontario’s capital to fulfill my fitness goals. Rather, I came for the big city experience, wanting to get immersed in the diverse music scene. More specifically, I was enamoured with Toronto for its live jazz music. When I started wandering around, my discovery of new streets morphed into me uncovering the expansive and unique range of jazz-related musicians, venues, and shows in this city. My love for live music took over, and my excessively long walking journeys would finally have a destination. The disorientation and exhaustion from these treks paired just so nicely with the sounds of a jazz quartet; the tiredness would escape me after hearing the elated sounds of a well-connected band. The malleable melodies, the freedom of the rhythms, and the charged collaboration of bandmates provided a sense of purpose not found anywhere else in Toronto.

I quickly memorized the routes to some of my favourite venues. The walk down Saint George and Beverly, through Grange Park, and along McCaul gets you to the Rex on Queen Street West where the University of Toronto’s Faculty of Music hosts student jazz nights on Mondays. An expedition down College lands you at the Emmet Ray and Sellers and Newel, where you can see fantastic local bands in intimate venues. With a quick trip down Spadina you can get to Grossman’s Tavern, and play pool with the backdrop of a blues band. For a fancy time, you can head to Jazz Bistro and watch musicians from the second floor of a fine establishment. Last but not least, you can check out the one of a kind Tranzac with a small stroll down Bloor Street to see free shows. The list of venues across the city is seemingly endless, and at times completely unexpected.

One of the most creative setups I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing took place at the Kensington Market Jazz Festival (KMJF). At the end of my first month at university on a particularly sunny Sunday morning, my dad had sent me a link to the KMJF where his old classmate from university was performing. Inspired by his referral, I headed to Kensington to catch a show at the one and only Tom’s Place. Tom’s Place is a unique venue: though I consider myself well-acquainted with varied makeshift stages and spaces, nobody could have prepared me for what I was about to stumble upon. I walked down Augusta, turned onto Baldwin, and I stood in line outside a men’s clothing store. It had everything a businessman’s heart could desire: the suits, socks, ties, shoes, and, of course, a grand piano. The instrument stood heavily on a stage that was barely big enough to contain its grandeur. Three rows of foldable chairs lined up on the side of the store, and the eager audience filled the space to the brim as customers browsed around the store. Tom and his crew were running around, working their charm and expertise to sell their luxurious products. Once in a while, the phone would even ring with clothing orders, or someone at the front desk would use the intercom to call someone upstairs.

The wonderful playing and singing soon began. The intimacy of the space made me feel like I was in my grandparents’ living room watching my cousins play a tune. The proximity of the performer, audience members, and browsing customers in the background was reminiscent of my family chaotically stuffed on the couch, nodding, whispering, and humming along. I’m brought back to Grandma checking on the potatoes and Uncle Joe whispering to Laura to pass him the bowl of jujubes as original melodies flow from the grand piano all the while. There was something splendid and familial about that performance, despite not knowing anyone in the room. In fact, as a wide-eyed 18-year-old who had been in Toronto for barely a month, I only knew a handful of people in the city at the time. But in that moment, with smiles roaming around the room, the warmness, cheerfulness and engagement of a room full of jazz, I had a community. The intricate rhythms, chord combinations, and the melodies full of life provided me with a sense of familiarity, and then I knew the city had finally welcomed me.

Following that first monumental experience at the Kensington Market Jazz Festival two years ago, I knew I wanted to get involved somehow and I decided to volunteer with them. I’ve mounted posters, collected money to support the performing artists, and have had the opportunity to chat with the visitors and organizers of this incredible event. The festival’s attendees come from far and wide: from the older married couple I met who had stumbled upon the festival while making a weekend visit to Toronto, to the fellow from Brazil who was spending his days in Canada hanging around the neighbourhood, or the steady stream of local Torontonians who crowd the streets of Kensington on pedestrian Sundays. The festival is populated with young couples with their families, old families with their grown kids, content middle-aged couples, and older ones with resting smiles on their faces. The skillfully played music floats in the air above the audience, and passersby from the public sidewalks accumulate to catch a glimpse of the action. People dance in the streets, and folks soak up the final moments of September’s beautiful weather and dying heat while they still can.

Working at the festival has provided me with such a strong sense of community. You can find it in the aura of the audience, the joy of the performers, the enthusiasm of the emcees, and the absolute dedication and passion that goes on behind the scenes of the volunteers and organizers. In the midst of this city and its long straight streets, I have discovered this pocket that contains a caring and driven community. Once a year for a weekend, many wonderful artists—both established locals and young emerging performers—are hosted in spaces offered by generous businesses, and run by volunteers. We are the people making it happen.

Whether you are curious about seeing a show and dabbling in the Toronto jazz scene, interested in performing or volunteering, or even just wanting to explore Kensington Market, the annual KMJF provides a wonderful opportunity to immerse yourself in the Kensington Market’s charm. This year marks an especially significant one—the KMJF will be celebrating its 10^th anniversary. More venues and artists than ever before are expected to play on the last weekend of September, and I can’t wait! Add it to your calendars and make a point of taking a lovely afternoon or evening stroll down to Kensington to support your local artists. Live jazz is part of the lifeblood of this city, and this is your chance to break away from the bustle of the concrete sidewalks, crowds of pedestrians, and rowdiness of car engines to enjoy everything that Kensington has to offer. If it wasn’t for my jazz destinations, and the KMJF in particular, my connections with the city would not have been as rich and rewarding. So take a walk down this city’s full, messy, eclectic streets: you never know what sounds await you. You may just stumble upon and fall in love with the sounds of Kensington jazz.