Chucho Valdes, July 4

There are concerts that I (and perhaps you?) attend that engage me on one level or on a variety of levels, and I leave the venue feeling somewhere on the spectrum between pleased and appreciative to ecstatic. Then there are concerts that simply make me warm (no make that hot) and sweaty. The Chucho Valdes show at the Centre last night was one of those concerts. From the opening medley of Ellington songs, starting with Satin Doll, treated with a distinctly Cuban flavour to the next song, Weather Report’s Birdland, to the final encore featuring a spirited imitative interchange between Valdes and percussionist Yoraldi Abreu, the rhythmic winds provided by the band combined with Chucho’s unending melodic sense and lyricism engulfed me, from my tapping toes to my bobbing head.

When his sister, Mayra, made her way to the stage for the last two numbers and made an effort to get the audience to clap (she was successful), and sing (Besame Mucho; success again!) and then to get on their feet (again, success!), she did what should have been done from the beginning. She got people to be involved and to move. How could you not have been to that moment? When everybody else settled back into their seats for the encore, this nearly boiling blogger had to move to the side to keep his hyperactive body going.

As I have been saying for years, Chucho Valdes is one of those pianists, perhaps due to his imposing physical stature and massive hands, who doesn’t just play the piano; he devours the keyboard. But as Ray Anderson said so aptly earlier in the day, there are players who have tremendous technique but don’t touch you. Nothing could be farther from the case with Chucho. When he plays, the size of his heart matches that of his hands. While he is capable of playing softly and tenderly on ballads, he never stops swinging. And even when he is “rocking out”, the lushness and emotion in his playing are always there.

His band mates complement him and each other perfectly. Lazaro Rivero Alarcon on bass, while not flashy, is more than solid. The percussion section, Juan Carlos Castro Rojas drums and the aforementioned Abreu, are truly a team. Their interplay with Chucho consistently takes the band to that next level of audience butt moving. They were provided with a few opportunities to solo and generally these took the form of one backing the other and vice versa and all-out percussive assault by the both of them. Rojas exuded such joy throughout the set that you couldn’t help but feel infected by it. And when was the last time you heard so much cowbell from one drummer and kept wanting more? Abreu appears to be a humble young man with immense chops, content to move along the band as a team player, but when given the opportunity to take centre stage as he did with Alcaron on a dual shekere/guiro solo at the end, he shines. I only wish that we could have heard more from Mayra. Not only did she bring energy to the band and to the crowd, but also demonstrated great non-verbal vocalizing ability as well as an ability to get her chops around a tune.

After the show, we went to O'Doul's, where Chucho sat in on three songs.

-Bill

Jimmy Cobb and the So What Band, July 2

A review of the Monterey Quartet is coming soon, we promise.

Today though, we jump ahead to last night with Jimmy Cobb and the So What Band at the Centre, playing the music from Kind of Blue, Miles Davis’ breakthrough 1959 album.

Here’s what Stephen Thomas Erlewine says about it on AllMusic:Kind of Blue isn't merely an artistic highlight for Miles Davis, it's an album that towers above its peers, a record generally considered as the definitive jazz album, a universally acknowledged standard of excellence. Why does Kind of Blue posses such a mystique? Perhaps because this music never flaunts its genius.

If you are unfamiliar with Kind of Blue, check out the excellent film, Miles Davis Kind of Blue 50th Anniversary, posted on YouTube

The So What band is lead by drummer Jimmy Cobb, the only surviving member from the original recording. The rest of the band channels their cooresponding members with Wallace Roney playing Miles on trumpet, Javon Jackson as John Coltrane on tenor sax, Vincent Herring as Cannonball Atterly on alto sax, Larry Willis as Bill Evans on piano, and John Webber as Paul Chambers on bass.

They came on stage and played Kind of Blue straight, with chaser, as though on vinyl. First, So What, one of the most recognizable tunes in jazz history. Then, slinky Freddy Freeloader, gentle Blue in Green, and my fave, All Blues (seen here), finishing with Flemenco Sketches, a song that led to Miles’ next album, Sketches of Spain. But live, in the Centre, there was no need to flip the record over.

Watching these musicians re-create the sessions leading to Kind of Blue, you gotta wonder how much physical presence they are occupying. For instance, Wallace Roney wore a flashy, but immaculately tailored jacket, like Miles would have later in life, and he kept eyeing his horn. When he wasn’t playing, Miles often seemed obsessed with his horn, and stared at it like the thing was revealing secrets of the universe. In this small move, Roney gave us enough of a visual to enliven the audible Miles. Kind of mystical, kind of magical.

Bill thought Jimmy Cobb’s playing actually improved with each song and was a great form by the end. After the others had left the stage, Cobbs paced around, soaking up the applause and his own sweat with a dry towellette, until he finally said, oh alright, like so what? At the end of a show that drew multiple standing ovations, they played Straight, No Chaser as an encore. A perfect metaphor.

Missed almost all of the first band, John Stetch Trio, but heard the second to last song. When he announced the title, Girl in a Hemp Shirt, I thought, man, these guys are young. Then, after Stetch did a little William Shatner schtick, they played the theme from Star Trek. I guess this is jazz’s Next Generation.

Later, at O’Doul’s, So Whaters Lavon Jackson and Larry Willis turned up, along with a bunch of young musicians too numerous to name, to play the jam session with Mike Allen.

More great music this weekend.

See you at jazz fest!
-Mari

Sonny Rollins, June 29 at the Orpheum

At the end of Sonny Rollins’s first song Monday night, he quoted “The Man on the Flying Trapeze”. Was this a moment of whimsy? Something he’s done at the same point in the song thousands of times at thousand of gigs? Perhaps. But for me, for that night, it was who he was and still is.

While his chops appear to have diminished little over the years (in fact, we both felt that he sounded better tonight than he did when we saw him 6 years ago in SF), Rollins still appears to attack each solo as if playing it for the first time. It’s not that he’s ragged; it’s just that he has as lot to say and he won’t stop ‘til he feels like he’s done. So it was theme and variation, riff and response, and a whole lot of breathtaking soul.

Make no mistake. This is Sonny’s band and Sonny’s world, and his band knows it. Sure, band members such as long time compadre electric bassist Bob Cranshaw kept it as tight as Sonny would allow, and long time trombonist bandmate Clifton Anderson soloed solidly and added colour to many of the tunes. The rest of the band was terrific.

Sonny walked onto the stage – how shall I say- looking every bit his age, but once the first note was played, he seemed in total control and as spry as could be. Moving across the stage, communicating with his bandmates, he comped on their solos and even soloed along with them for a time until he let them take their own solos! Like, “OK, guys, you can take it from here…” And when it came time for him to wail, as I said, that is what he did. Lifting in his sax in the air in that classic Sonny pose, he engulfed the audience with pure improvisational joy. Once he got warmed up, he just kept getting better and better. Let’s hear it for the daring man with his horn in flight!!!

-Bill

Try as we might to catch the names of songs, without an intro it can be mysterious. I thought Sonny’s opening song was My One And Only You, but The Sun's Marke Andrews called it as, Someone To Watch Over Me, which was actually my first suspicion. What’s your guess? What was that sweet ballad?

Something he said at the end cracked me up, paraphrasing again: ‘I love Vancouver and I hope you all come back again’ (like we don’t live here). ‘Really, please come back and see me.’

Funny, Sonny.

-Mari

The Sun Sheds Light on Jazz Festival

I have to confess that one reason Bill and I started this blog was prompted by our previous dissatisfaction with the lack of daily festival reviews from the Vancouver Sun. I wrote to them last year and complained, and was assured that the Sun would publish a big wrap-up piece at the end of the festival. Big whoop, I responded - paraphrasing here - what good is that for jazz freaks like us who want immediate satisfaction about the show we saw the night before?

So, anticipating the same editorial plan for 2009, we launched Jazzcouverites.

This year, Marke Andrews is pumping out reviews like, er, a jazz freak.

It started on Monday with a whirlwind of reviews from the opening weekend: Drummer propels Monterey Quartet to new heights

Then, Jazz Festival delivers surprises, delights and a slight disappointment on Tuesday.

Today, it’s Jazz royalty knows how to wow a crowd, While Werner and Hersh deliver ethereal, flawless show, Sonny Rollins, 78, dazzles
Now, it is we who are feeling lacking from being three days behind.

Nice going Marke! Dig that crazy beat!

Speaking of reportage, has anyone got a take on the Al Di Meola show that we skipped for Sonny Rollins? Comment here, please.

-Mari

Kenny Werner, June 30, Vancouver Jazz Fest

After a busy day, I wasn’t able to make the beginning of the Fred Hirsch Trio/Kenny Werner Quintet and thus deprived myself of an opportunity to hear the terrific Hirsch command the keyboard again as I had in 2004 at the Healdsburg Jazz Festival in California. Alas. If you missed this chance to see him, make sure that you catch him the next time around. He is a pianistic force, often described as cerebral. Cerebral, yes, but swing he can…

All that said, I missed out on very little in terms of piano expression when I saw Kenny Werner perform with his outstanding quintet. Although I have heard about Werner for years and probably “back announced” his name in my jazz DJ days earlier in the millennium and have seen his books in the Jamie Abersold catalogue, I wasn’t familiar with his work as a leader and, truth be told, attended the concert more for the opportunity to see a couple of his sidemen (David Sanchez on tenor and Randy Brecker on trumpet). Well, Werner is no longer under my radar. He demonstrated equal strength as an accompanist, a composer, and as a performer.

With the exception of the last number, Werner composed all the songs. Many of these came from his 2007 release, “Lawn Chair Society” which he described as a commentary on life in America. In the slower vein, “Uncovered Heart”, released originally in 1990 and re-released on “… Society”, Werner informed the audience that it was written for his daughter when she was born. It was a touching, sweet composition without veering into the maudlin and trite. It left plenty of room both for extensive piano musing as well as protracted ensemble work and compatible, understated solos by Sanchez, Scott Cauley (on bass), and Brecker. Learning today that Werner’s daughter died tragically in a car accident in 2006 gives this song that much more emotional import; that Werner chose to omit this last detail in his introduction of the song allowed it to speak for itself. Choosing as he did to revisit this piece on a work that had a broader theme only goes to show, perhaps, that the personal never gets lost even when addressing the political and the social. “New Amsterdam”(New York City’s previous name) was perhaps a portrait of New York. While it, too, unfolded as a compositional journey and built to an inspired finish through a series of solos and ensemble playing, it had a definite funky underpinnings with city-ish shadings in the group playing. Werner’s driving, rhythmic accompaniment drove the whole band.

Sanchez’s final solo was amazing, propelling the piece to its heightened conclusion. “Inaugural Balls”, Werner informed us, was written in response to the 2004 U.S. election (something to the effect of: “What else could I do? I wrote a song.”). He imagined what would it be like at the Inauguration Ball with Bush, Cheney, et al in their tuxes and dancing. So he wrote a piece that might reflect that (scary) sight. Unique, to the say the least. Though there were at least two discernible sections to the piece, throughout there was a sense of the choppy and of the deranged (is this mere projection on my part?). And this was illustrated by consistent interplay between Sanchez and Brecker. It was almost like a warped New Orleans style blowing session (without the New Orleans style) with the two musicians blowing phrases and lines into, by and around each other.

The last song(there probably was an encore but I was off the to see Joyce at Performance Works), introduced by Werner saying that “if you’ve been a parent for the last fifteen years, you’ll be familiar with this”, was Hedwig’s Theme, from the Harry Potter films. While not as varied in its compositional twists and turns as the Werner pieces, it was a springboard for yet more inspired playing from each of the members of the ensemble. What is notable for me is that it will always be possible to interpret and improvise upon- and indeed take them to places we would never have thought possible- popular songs and film themes of the present day. It’s not even an either/or thing- either you play the “standards” or you play your own compositions.

One last word. The band was fantastic. Scott Cauley was solid as solid can be. Antonio Sanchez was an understated but fluid communicator, keeping the beat, playing around the beat, and driving the band. After years of being a Brecker fan, it was a treat to see him as a sideman. He moved from the muscular to the cerebral with ease. His chops are still very much intact. And, after a week of seeing great tenors, David Sanchez had big shoes to fill and fill them he did. He sacrifices little in skill to blow most expressively. And, to see him grinning and nodding as he often was when not playing, it is obvious that he got as much out of his band mates as I did.

Sorry, no video.

-Bill

Derek Trucks Band, June 27 at the Centre

The Derek Trucks Band took to the Centre’s stage Saturday night amid a constant outpouring of dry ice clouds and played a powerhouse two-hour set that sent us back to the heyday of the Allman Brothers. Indeed, as the nephew of Allman Bro drummer, Butch Trucks, and having toured with the Allman Brothers as a guitar prodigy, many of the songs had whiffs of In Memory of Elizabeth Reed.

Trucks is a true guitar god and his level of virtuosity – especially slide guitar - is astonishing for someone so young. Yet, despite his commanding playing, Trucks remained verbally mute through the whole set, leaving drummer Yonrico Scott to do the introductions.

Few of the songs were introduced, though we assume they are contained on the new CD, Already Free. Midway through, Trucks played an extensive version of My Favorite Things – video shown here – which featured B-3/keyboardman Kofi Burbridge playing flute. It’s hard to not think of Will Farrell as the Anchorman when we think of jazz flute, but in this case, the rendition was not laughable. Burbridge’s use of the B3 Hammond organ only increased the audible association with the Allman Brothers that made us time trip to the early 1970s.

The encore included two cover songs, with Mike Mattison doing an eloquent job on vocals. The first, a blues song, sounded very familiar, but for the life of me I can’t place the title. The last number had the whole audience singing along to Anyday, from the album Layla by Derek and the Dominos. It was a great way to end a memorable evening

Trucks Band also included Todd Smallie bass/vocals, Count M’Butu congas/percussion.

Alas, no video of opener Steve Dawson and his band who played an eclectic mix of blues, roots, and rock, including a countrified cover of Dylan’s, Leopardskin Pillbox Hat and a Hawaiian-style steel guitar version of An Orange Grove in California by Irving Berlin.

-Mari

Lucas Niggli and Zoom, June 27, Performance Works

One of the joys of volunteering at this festival over the years – and particularly at our “home” venue, the Performance Works on Granville Island – has been the opportunity to encounter a variety of artists to which our generally straight ahead sensibilities would not normally lead us. Such was the case yesterday with Swiss percussionist, Lucas Niggli, and his band Zoom. Along with German trombonist(and melodica and nose player!), Nils Wogram and fellow countryman Philip Schaufelberger on guitar, he created an afternoon of compelling music, which, for the sake of simplicity, could be described as a mixture of the new and the traditional, the composed and the improvised.

The band played two sets of approximately 45 minutes of length. In general, pieces began with either slow, piannisimo interplay between the players, often more sonic than melodic, followed by a series of mood and tempo shifts finishing in a composed unison ending, or they began with the well paced composed melodic sections and continued with various portions with a series of crescendos and diminuendos. This is not to overly simplify the effect of the music, but to state that each piece had its own arc in terms of mood, meter, and dynamics. In the first set, on the second song, Super Blues(which may have had a bit of a bluesy feel to it at times but was far from being anything close to a standard blues- and that’s OK!), Niggli displayed some attributes which make him a creative force. He was observed surveying his nearby piano chair of various cymbals and other percussive “toys” with the eye of a painter to see just which one would fit for him at that moment. And, for that moment, the particular small cymbal that he put on his tom-tom worked just right. Later, he used his hands to play the traps set as if it were a set of congas. Beautifully done. The final piece of the first set was actually two pieces, “Brain Ballad” and “Celebrate Diversity”. Diversity indeed. Numerous tempo and mood shifts. From fast and free to slowly descending ½ notes to a drum solo with liberal use of the rims to a nose solo by Wogram using his pointer finger to alter the sounds, it had a bit of everything. The fast paced unison ending provided a rousing ending to the first set.

-Bill