Perched somewhat precariously above Meiji-Dōri, a short stroll from the Harajuku crossing and Chiyoda line Metro exit, Volontaire is easily missed. Those that bother to climb the wrought iron staircase, bedecked with potted flowers, spiralling up from the street to the jazz bar’s tiny entrance will not be disappointed. Quality jazz, polite service, an excellent sandwich and a selection of quality teas and coffees – far superior to the muck usually served up at jazu-kissa (jazz café) – are provided in a tranquil, if cramped, setting punctuated by the occasional shaking of the flimsy old building as heavy traffic rumbles by on the road below.
Viewed from the street the building, in which Volontaire occupies the second floor, is not only easily overlooked but also perhaps best ignored. An unattractive, dilapidated concrete hangover from the pre-oil shock 1960s era of high growth and shoddy construction, only a quaint little wooden shop sign such as one would expect to find adorning an English tea-room declares in peeling white letters that within are served “Jazz and Coffee.”
Truth be told, the interior of the bar shows signs of age too. But after a little over thirty years of business this can be forgiven. It’s all part of the charm. A reminder of halcyon days and a glorious counter culture in which the jazu-kissa, or bar, played a central role. Squeezed into the tiny, wedge-shaped room a Lilliputian funnel-shaped bar area is surrounded by a narrow counter, its paint worn and peeling like some diseased tree. Rising through the counter to support the sagging purple ceiling, with its black gaffer tape holding the cracks together, is a wooden pillar around which is crafted a lamp in the form of an open flower. Aside from dim yellow lights sunken into the ceiling this flower-lamp provides the only illumination. More often than not, seasonal flowers or tree boughs also decorate the pillar, prettifying the place while occupying already limited space. Around the counter, which can perhaps seat twelve at a push, tall black-cushioned bar stools await occupants. The bar area itself houses a single gas stove, fridge and sink above which are shelves of choice tea, coffee and whiskey. To the left of this “kitchen,” amp, turntable and rarely used CD player feed exquisite jazz to two ancient sweet-sounding speakers perched above the doorway.
Around the room worn walls of thin plywood are adorned with old concert posters and paintings of jazz greats as well as a yellowed-plastic vintage National air-conditioner. To the rear of the bar, and to the right of the unbelievably small washroom (surprisingly modern and clean), shelves hold a selection of books and a cabinet bulges with patrons’ “keep-bottles” of bourbon. On the right of the bar a collection of some 2,000 (reduced a few years ago from around 4,000) records mainly from the 1950s and 60s occupy sagging shelves. To the left of the bar, bottles of wine gather dust.
By day the bar is served by Satoshi-san, the mild-mannered softly spoken younger brother of the lady of the house, Kyoko-san. Satoshi-san, most often in shorts, short-sleeves and sandals, with his long grey hair pulled back in a ponytail has the look and atmosphere of a native American tribal elder, rather than one who served a ten year tenure as an editor at the Nikkei Shimbun. Polite, eloquent, but usually silent, he goes about his work and serves food and drink with a calm grace. Despite commanding only a smattering of English he does his best to host those brave non-Japanese speaking gaijin who do not turn away at the first sight of the place. By night Kyoko-san, a small, attractive and thoroughly charming lady, reigns. As does a ¥2,000 cover charge.
Seated at the far end of the bar, thus enjoying a glimpse of passersby on Meiji-Dōri through the open door, I order beer, Yebisu, time and again while investigating the small, hand-written menu and jotting down the names of records being played. The sleeve of whatever is currently playing is helpfully displayed on top of a stack of vinyl upon the bar. Beer, either Yebisu or Kirin by the bottle, costs ¥750 – as does wine by the glass – and comes served with nuts. Bourbon abounds. Bottles of Makers Mark, Jack Daniels, Four Roses and Wild Turkey beckon from the shelves, as do the costlier single malts, such as Laphroaig and Macallan for ¥1,000. Brazilian coffee at ¥650 and Italian Roast at ¥600 are all made from freshly ground beans and poured from a glass carafe. Teas, such as Darjeeling, Ceylon, Earl Grey and O-cha (Japanese green tea) all come at ¥650. Both tea and coffee are sipped from delicate floral china cups and saucers most often seen in tearooms across the Cotswolds. The delicious, chunky pastrami beef sandwich and beer set is value for money at ¥1,500 (¥1,400 with tea or coffee.) Although I have yet to try it, the walnut pound cake set (with either tea or coffee), at ¥1,200, also sounds tempting.
Enjoying the relaxing atmosphere and gentle throb of traffic from the streets below I take note as Chet Baker gives way to Sonny Clark and a distinguished looking gentleman, ninety if not a day, dressed in three-piece pin-stripe suit, cravat and panama hat settles onto a stool. By the time “Shelly Manne & His Men at the Black Hawk 1” comes on he has smoked half a packet of cigarettes, chasing each one with a shot of whiskey. As I get up to leave, he orders a bowl of ice cream.
Update 18/3/11: Volontaire is no more. Just as Masako was carelessly swept away, so too this well-loved Jingu-mae stalwart (whether due to the quake or not, I don't know). Amidst the anxiety and destruction wrought upon Japan in the last week, the loss of an old, cramped, jazz bar may be insignificant. But not to all. To some, Tokyo will have become just a little less itself. From what I saw when passing by today, the building behind Volontaire is also in the process and being demolished, as is another further up the row behind Condomania. I'll refrain for getting all "mono no aware" on you... Just this once...
Tel: 03-3400-8629
Monday, March 21, 2011 at 6:11PM | 
It has its attractions, but not many. Food wise, not much recommends itself; a half-decent looking Indian restaurant had promise, but locals were put off when the proprietors started advertising jobs for “young, attractive women.” In surrounding Fujimi there’s more on offer, such as great yakiniku and udon, but that’s another story.
The menu covers cakes and pastries, sandwiches and pizza, and the specialities of the house - gratin and dorian. The lunch sets, a little under ¥1,000, consist of bread, salad and either gratin or dorian in about five varieties, complete with a drink (non-alcoholic). Yebisu beer is available though, should you need it. 
My sausage and potato gratin was hot - lava hot, and although tasty, especially when topped with Tabasco in both red pepper and jelapeno flavours, took too long to cool to a safe temperature. My dining partners both had the seafood dorian. Both dishes would have benefited from more broccoli, in my opinion. 
