A Hospitality Partnership in Search of Its Next Home  

Part 1 – The Beginning

After more than fifty years as a professional musician, I've reached an interesting point in my career.

People sometimes ask me what I'm looking for next.

The answer surprises them.

I'm not looking for more one-night engagements.

I'm not looking for another concert.

I'm not even looking for a bigger audience.

I'm looking for a way of life I once had, and I'm trying to discover whether it still exists.

Not because I'm nostalgic.

Because I know how remarkably well it worked.

The story doesn't begin in Singapore.

It doesn't begin at Raffles Hotel or the Fullerton, the Ritz-Carlton, the Mandarin Oriental, the Westin, or any of the other luxury hotels that later became part of my professional life.

It begins in Amherst, Massachusetts.

At the time, I was working as a cook at the Lord Jeffery Inn, one of New England's historic country inns. I loved the work and was fortunate to be learning under an outstanding chef. In fact, both the Executive Chef and the baker encouraged me to consider attending the Culinary Institute of America.

But there was one problem.

I knew I was a much better guitarist than cook.

One day I walked into the General Manager's office and asked a simple question.

"Are you happy with my work in the kitchen?"

He said they were.

I replied,

"Then I'd like to make you a proposal."

I explained that I had been rehearsing a jazz duo and believed the hotel's bar could benefit from live music on my two nights off.

I wasn't asking him to take a risk.

I proposed an experiment.

One evening.

No obligation.

If he believed the music enhanced the atmosphere, he could hire us.

If not, we would shake hands and that would be the end of it.

He agreed.

That one evening changed the direction of my professional life.

The music attracted people who had never before thought of the Lord Jeffery Inn as a place to hear jazz. Local newspapers began listing our performances after I learned to write concise press releases. Wedding inquiries followed. Before long, I was organizing concerts, writing grant proposals, building relationships with local businesses, founding the Pioneer Jazz Society, assembling a Board of Directors, and discovering that creating a successful music scene required much more than playing guitar well.

The Lord Jeffery Inn became both my musical home and my classroom, where I learned that presenting live jazz required as much organization as musicianship. Founding the Amherst Jazz Society allowed me to bring nationally recognized artists to Western Massachusetts while gaining invaluable experience in programming, promotion, fundraising, and audience development.

Without realizing it, I had begun thinking not simply as a musician, but as an organizer, contractor, promoter, and partner.

Years later, I would discover just how important that distinction would become.

A few years later, after relocating to my hometown of Cincinnati, I sat in one evening at a neighborhood club called Doc's Place.

I wasn't there looking for work.

Friends had invited me to bring my guitar.

After the set, the owner—Doc himself—stopped me as I was leaving.

"Would you like to play here again?"

I answered yes.

He told me to come back Monday morning.

I did.

Carrying a borrowed typewriter.

Doc asked why I'd brought it.

I smiled and said,

"Because I'd like to book all the jazz here... and if we're going to do that, I think we should have a contract."

He laughed.

We sat down.

We worked out an agreement.

When I left, I walked across the street and opened a business account under the name Chako Productions. 

I wasn't simply accepting a gig.

I was building something.

At the time, I had no idea where that path would eventually lead.

At Doc's Place in Cincinnati, I wasn't simply performing—I was programming guest artists, promoting the club, building audiences, and learning firsthand how live music could help define a venue's identity. Looking back, it was another step toward the hospitality partnerships that would later shape my career in Asia.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 2 – Hong Kong - The First Hospitality Partnership

After my years in Amherst and Cincinnati, another opportunity unexpectedly changed the direction of my career.

In 1992, I moved to Hong Kong.

Initially, my work consisted largely of private performances, corporate events, consulting, and booking musicians through my company, Chako Productions. At the same time, I was fortunate to perform with the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra in a series of pop concerts at the Hong Kong Coliseum, an experience that broadened both my musical and professional horizons.

Then an opportunity arose that would shape everything that followed.

Dean Winter, F&B Director at the Mandarin Oriental Hong Kong, wanted to prove that live jazz could become an integral part of the hotel's identity. Rather than treating music as background entertainment, he envisioned a dedicated jazz program that would give guests another reason to visit one of Hong Kong's most respected hotels.

He invited me to assemble and lead the trio.

For two weeks we performed six nights a week at the famous Captain’s Bar, presenting mainstream jazz standards, lesser-known compositions, and spontaneous improvisation in an intimate setting where conversation and hospitality remained as important as the music itself.

The engagement received enthusiastic press coverage throughout Hong Kong. More importantly, it confirmed something I had been gradually discovering in Amherst and Cincinnati: when thoughtfully presented, live music could become an extension of the hospitality experience rather than simply an added attraction.

During that same period we recorded my first album, Everything I Love, much of it inspired by the repertoire we were performing each evening at the Captain's Bar. The recording marked another important milestone, establishing not only my first CD as a leader, but also documenting the musical philosophy that would continue to evolve throughout my career.

Looking back, I realize that those two weeks at the Mandarin Oriental represented far more than a successful engagement.

They became my first true hospitality partnership.

Perhaps most significantly, they opened another door. Dean Winter would later invite me to Singapore to become Entertainment Manager at the Oriental Singapore, a relationship that further strengthened my understanding of how carefully curated live music could enhance the guest experience.

The lessons learned in Hong Kong would soon be tested on a much larger stage.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 3 – Opportunity Knocks

By the time I arrived in Singapore, I wasn't simply a guitarist anymore. I had already learned how to organize musicians, promote performances, build audiences, and think from management's perspective. I didn't realize it then, but those experiences had quietly prepared me for an entirely different role—one that extended far beyond playing guitar.

My first engagement in Singapore came when Tim Steckbeck, the Food & Beverage Director at the Pan Pacific Hotel decided not to renew its existing entertainment contract. They were looking for a change, and I was fortunate to become that change.

The initial contract was for three months.

My first group consisted of drummer Redd Holt, whose years with the Ramsey Lewis Trio had made him one of the most respected drummers in jazz, Australian bassist Belinda Moody, and myself on guitar. 

From the beginning, our objective was simple: deliver the highest level of music we possibly could while supporting the atmosphere the hotel wanted to create.

Fortunately, the engagement was a success.

In fact, it went so well that before the initial contract had expired, management decided not only to extend our engagement, but also to move the music from the Pearl of Casablanca restaurant into the hotel lobby, giving live music a far more prominent role within the property.

The extension also gave me an opportunity to rethink the band.

Rather than simply renew the original lineup, I recruited singer Jean Du Shon, pianist Mario Serio and bassist Victor Gaskin from the United States to join me in Singapore for the next three-month engagement.

That decision introduced me to an entirely new level of responsibility.

Building the band was only the beginning.

Now I was responsible for securing employment passes, coordinating international travel, arranging housing, negotiating contracts, and ensuring that every legal requirement for employing foreign musicians in Singapore was properly handled—all while continuing to perform six nights a week.

I wasn't simply leading a jazz trio anymore.

Without realizing it, I had begun operating an international entertainment business.

It was during this second Pan Pacific engagement that the telephone rang late one evening.

The caller was M.P.S. Puri, Food & Beverage Director at Singapore's legendary Raffles Hotel.

Months earlier, shortly after arriving in Singapore, I had introduced myself at Raffles and left behind my promotional materials, hoping to meet whoever was responsible for the hotel's entertainment. I was told they already had an entertainment contractor, so I contacted him instead. We arranged to meet one afternoon at Boat Quay.

He never showed.

I simply moved on.

Now, unexpectedly, Puri was calling.

He explained that my promotional materials had eventually found their way onto his desk.

He had an immediate problem his existing entertainment contractor had been unable to solve.

He wanted authentic American jazz in the Bar & Billiard Room.

Unfortunately, I was already under contract at the Pan Pacific.

Rather than ask him to wait without entertainment, I proposed a temporary solution.

I placed a respected local group led by Malay recording artist Max Surin into the room until I became available.

One evening, after listening for a while, Puri quietly turned to me and said,

"These guys are not a jazz band."

He wasn't criticizing Max Surin.

He was simply reminding me of the vision we had already discussed.

I smiled and replied,

"Please wait just a little longer."

I knew exactly what he meant.

And I intended to deliver it.

When my Pan Pacific commitment concluded, I moved to the Bar & Billiard Room.

Before I had played a single note there, Puri had already done something remarkable.

He had trusted me to solve his problem.

Neither of us could have known that the partnership we were beginning would shape the next two decades of my professional life.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 4 – Raffles Hotel: More Than a Residency 

When I walked into the Bar & Billiard Room for the first time as its new bandleader, I wasn't thinking about hospitality philosophy.

I wasn't thinking about guest psychology.

I wasn't thinking about long-term partnerships.

I simply wanted to put together the best band I could, prepare thoroughly, do the job well, and keep the engagement.

Like every young bandleader, I was still learning. 

Playing professionally six nights a week bears very little resemblance to practicing alone. Every evening teaches something different.

Some lessons come from the music.

Some come from the musicians you lead.

Others come from the room itself.

At the time, I wasn't consciously trying to learn any of those lessons.

I simply wanted to become better.

Night after night, little by little, I did.

During every break I left the bandstand.

No one suggested it.

It simply seemed natural to introduce myself to the guests who had chosen to spend part of their evening with us.

Many were generous enough to compliment the music.

Like any musician, I appreciated hearing those comments.

Then one evening a simple thought occurred to me.

Those compliments would have far greater value if they reached hotel management rather than stopping with me.

Hospitality professionals have a saying that has survived for generations:

"The customer is always right."

Whether literally true or not, every experienced hotelier understands what those words really mean.

Guest perception ultimately determines whether the experience has been successful.

If I praised my own work, it was merely opinion.

If guests took the time to praise it directly to hotel management, it became evidence.

So whenever someone complimented the band, I would simply smile and say,

"Thank you. Would you mind telling my boss?"

Many of them did.

Those letters became some of the most valuable documents of my professional career.

Not because they praised me.

Because they validated what I was beginning to observe for myself.

Some guests were simply passing through Singapore.

Before continuing their travels, they took the time to write remarkable letters describing the music they had unexpectedly discovered at Raffles. Several commented that after travelling throughout the world they had found some of the finest jazz they had ever heard. Others expressed surprise that they had discovered jazz of that quality in Singapore at all.

Then there were the returning guests.

Their companies brought them back to Singapore time and again.

Hideki Mori from Japan.

Matthew Weathered from Australia.

George Martin from British Airways.

Marcus and Koraa Faber-Møller from France.

Whenever business brought them back to Singapore, an evening at the Bar & Billiard Room often became part of their stay.

Over time, those professional acquaintances became genuine friendships.

Years later, while touring Australia, Matthew welcomed me into his home with extraordinary generosity. Sitting in his front yard, I composed a tune that eventually became Fine Aussie Weathered.

When I later moved to Japan, Mori-san and I reconnected, continuing a friendship that had begun years earlier at Raffles.

Marcus and Koraa returned year after year, and our friendship likewise extended well beyond the hotel.

Looking back now, I realize those relationships taught me something I could never have learned from a single engagement.

A successful residency isn't measured only by applause or even by repeat business.

It's measured by trust.

Trust that develops slowly.

Trust that guests place in the experience.

Trust that transforms customers into lasting relationships.

At the time, I wasn't trying to build those relationships.

I was simply trying to do my job as well as I could.

The relationships grew naturally from there.

As the months turned into years, the letters continued to arrive.

Some were only a few sentences.

Others filled several pages.

They came from business executives, airline personnel, engineers, diplomats, tourists, musicians, and travelers from around the world.

What fascinated me was not simply that they enjoyed the music.

It was that they repeatedly described the same experience.

Many of the letters were addressed, not to me, but directly to hotel management.

That distinction mattered.

These were not testimonials gathered for publicity or marketing purposes.

They were unsolicited observations written by guests who simply wanted the hotel to understand how much the music had contributed to their stay.

To me, those letters became something much more valuable than compliments.

They became evidence.

One letter in particular has remained with me for decades.

George Martin of British Airways, a frequent international traveler and devoted jazz enthusiast, wrote to the General Manager of Raffles Hotel:

"...its air of luxury and the consequent ambiance are truly exceptional. What, however, particularly appeals to me is the music played... Mr. Chako is world class, and their music is most enjoyable. You are indeed shrewd and fortunate in presenting such high class music."

I have never forgotten those words.

Not because George described me as "world class."

But because he praised the hotel's decision.

George wasn't simply complimenting a musician.

He was complimenting management's understanding that thoughtfully presented live music could become an integral part of the guest experience.

That distinction has stayed with me ever since.

Other guests described the Bar & Billiard Room in remarkably similar ways.

One wrote that the music had become "...central to the ambience of the Bar & Billiard Room and indeed the entire experience that is Raffles."

Another described our performances as the highlight of his stay in Singapore.

Others wrote that after traveling throughout the world they had unexpectedly found some of the finest jazz they had ever heard.

Individually, those letters were gratifying.

Collectively, they began telling a much larger story.

Perhaps the most satisfying aspect of those letters was what happened after they reached management.

Many were forwarded to me by M.P.S. Puri, often with a handwritten note of congratulations or appreciation in the margin. 

Those simple notes meant a great deal.

They confirmed that management wasn't merely receiving guest feedback.

They were listening to it. 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 5 – A Different Hotel. The Same Lesson.

Years later, another familiar opportunity presented itself.

When The Westin Shanghai prepared to open its doors, Food & Beverage Director Alp Ozkan invited me to lead the resident jazz program. Alp already knew my work well. We had previously worked together at The Westin Plaza & Westin Stamford in Singapore, where I had served as Musical Coordinator for the entertainment programs. That relationship, built over years of mutual trust, continued when he accepted his new position in Shanghai.

Once again, the objective extended beyond simply hiring a band. Together we sought to create an atmosphere that reflected the character of the hotel and encouraged guests to return—not merely for the music, but for the complete experience. 

When my Shanghai residency concluded, Alp summarized the results in a letter that immediately reminded me of Singapore. He wrote that business results had consistently improved, guest numbers had increased—particularly for the "Real-Jazz" entertainment presented by my group—and that I had played "an enormous role" in helping establish the Niche Bar as one of Shanghai's premier jazz venues. He also noted that my familiarity with the Westin philosophy and my previous experience in Singapore had helped make me the right person to develop the hotel's new music program.

Different country.

Different hotel.

Different management.

The conclusion was remarkably similar.

Looking back today, I no longer see those letters simply as compliments.

I see them as independent confirmation that thoughtfully presented live music can become something much larger than entertainment.

It can become part of a property's identity.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 6 – Does This Partnership Still Have a Home? 

Looking back over more than four decades, what strikes me most is not the hotels themselves.

It is the consistency.

Different countries.

Different cultures.

Different management teams.

Different guests.

Yet they repeatedly described remarkably similar experiences.

They spoke of atmosphere.

Ambience.

Elegance.

Relaxation.

Conversation.

Returning.

Recommending the venue to friends and colleagues.

Very few wrote only about the music.

Most wrote about how the music made them feel.

Or how it made the room feel.

Today I continue to perform every Saturday evening with bassist David Lloyd at Sorrento's Italian Joint in Cincinnati.

It is, of course, a very different setting from Raffles or The Westin Shanghai.

Yet my objective has never changed.

To provide music that supports the room rather than competes with it.

To encourage conversation rather than interrupt it.

To help create an atmosphere that people enjoy returning to.

Watching familiar faces come back week after week reminds me that the underlying principles have changed very little.

People still appreciate places where they feel welcomed.

Where conversations linger.

Where birthdays, anniversaries, reunions, and ordinary evenings become memorable.

Recently, one guest described the experience as "one of those evenings where everything just felt right." Another wrote that the music, the conversation, and the company combined to create "a memorable night."

Those words sounded remarkably familiar.

After all these years, they echoed many of the same comments I had first encountered in Hong Kong, Singapore, and Shanghai.

The question I now ask is not whether this approach once worked.

The guest letters, management evaluations, press coverage, and years of experience answer that question convincingly enough.

The real question is whether this kind of hospitality partnership still has a home.

If there are hotels, resorts, private clubs, restaurants, or hospitality organizations that still believe thoughtfully presented live music can become part of a property's identity rather than simply another entertainment expense, I would welcome that conversation.

Perhaps the answer is yes.

Perhaps it isn't.

I honestly don't know.

But after living this model across several countries, under different management teams, and with remarkably consistent results, I believe the question is worth asking.

Because somewhere, another room is waiting.

Somewhere, another management team is looking for a way to make guests stay a little longer...

...and perhaps another hospitality partnership is waiting to begin.