The Théâtre de Verdure sits in the Jardin Albert Ier, a few hundred metres from the Promenade des Anglais, where the palms catch whatever breeze comes off the water. On a July evening the sky above Nice holds its colour long after the sun has dropped behind the hills — a particular shade of blue-grey that feels almost theatrical. It is, in other words, a setting that asks something of the performers who take its stage.
On 25 July 2026, that stage belongs to Obongjayar, when the artist appears as part of Nice Jazz Festival — one of the oldest and most storied jazz gatherings in Europe, held each summer across the city's open-air venues. His set takes place at the Scène Théâtre de Verdure, the festival's intimate garden stage, where the audience sits close enough to feel the low end of a bass line in their ribs.
A Sound Shaped by Two Continents
Obongjayar — born Steven Umoh — grew up in Calabar, in the Cross River State of southeastern Nigeria, before moving to London as a teenager. The music he makes carries both places inside it: the rhythmic memory of Calabar, the grit and urgency of the British capital, and something else harder to name — a quality that sits between R&B, Afrobeat and post-punk without settling comfortably into any of them. His voice is a low, unhurried instrument, and he tends to use space the way a jazz musician does, letting silence do some of the work.
'His sound is a singular blend of the worlds he has passed through: Nigeria, where he was raised in Calabar, and London, where he settled as a teenager.'
That biography matters in the context of Nice Jazz Festival, which has never confined itself strictly to jazz. Since its founding in 1948, the festival has consistently followed sound wherever it leads — across blues, soul, funk, world music and beyond. What it has always prized is musicianship and a certain seriousness of intent. Obongjayar, whose live performances are known for their intensity and physical commitment, fits that tradition more naturally than the genre tags on his records might suggest.
The Garden Stage at Dusk
The Théâtre de Verdure is a different proposition from the festival's larger main stage. The venue is open-air but enclosed by the garden, and the acoustics carry a warmth that bigger amphitheatres rarely achieve. Arriving early is worth the effort: the Jardin Albert Ier runs down to the sea, and the walk along the Promenade before a show has its own quiet pleasure — the vendors, the skaters, the last swimmers pulling themselves out of the water.
Nice itself rewards the visitor who stays beyond the concert. The old town, a ten-minute walk from the garden, is a dense grid of ochre and terracotta buildings, its covered market one of the best on the coast. The hills behind the city — the Collines Niçoises — are close enough to reach by afternoon and empty enough to feel genuinely removed from the seafront crowds.
For those planning a longer stay around the festival, nicejazzfest.fr carries the full programme and ticketing information. Accommodation in central Nice moves quickly in late July; booking well ahead is simply practical.
There is something fitting about hearing an artist who carries two cities inside him perform in a place that has always been, in some sense, between worlds — French in administration, Italian in memory, Mediterranean in instinct. The Théâtre de Verdure, on a warm July night, is as good a place as any to let that kind of music find you.