Irakere pa gozar

 

What an evening. The packed Strathmore music center hall could barely contain itself during the 2-hour show by the Cuban pianist and band leader Chucho Valdés and Irakere, the band he established half a century ago. And here they were again, under the steerage of their legendary leader.

The 83-year old maestro was in excellent shape The sheer virtuosity of all of the players was stunning, but that’s not the point. The point is the musicality and the originality of the music, the joy and the genuine warmth. Irakere is primarily a jazz band but in a Cuban show people expect to dance. The usual strategy, Valdés has said, is for the band to play jazz for the first half of the concert, then switch to pure salsa.

There were three percussionists—one primarily on congas, another with bongos and other smaller percussion, and one behind a drum kit—who with their seamless interplay and polyrhythms provided the backbone of the music. The drummer was Horacio “El Negro” Hernández and one of the percussions was Roberto Jr. Vizcaino Torre, but I missed the name of the other. They were supplemented by the bassist José A. Gola on his 5-sting fretless guitar.

There were four horns, each with a distinct sound. Every one of them could hold their own with any bebop player. Early on in the concert, a lyrical Latin balled featured the tenor sax player Carlos Averhoff Jr. soloing on a soprano (his father, Carlos Averhoff Sr., was himself an influential saxophonist). I swear, this was possibly the best soprano sax solo I have ever witnessed—and I’ve seen them all, from Wayne Shorter down. The sound was just amazing and the fluidity of how he soloed before returning to the melody was reminiscent of Irakere’s original sax star, Paquito d’Rivera.

The maestro himself was dressed in white trousers and a dark blazer, sporting his trademark beret. He walked a bit stiffly but his pianistic abilities remain undiminished. He seems to be able to produce whatever he imagines on the keyboard—and his imagination is equally endless. There were moments when he’d play fast tremolo chords on his right hand, while soloing on the left. Take another early piece in the concert, a tango. It started with a Valdés solo intro which contained musical elements from Latin to free jazz—and a sudden quotation from Mozart for a few bars. In the main tango theme, the rhythm section joined in. Suddenly the swing changed totally and the tune turned into a piano trio jazz piece with a walking bass accompanying Chucho’s fast speed improvisations. Equally suddenly and seamlessly, the jam turned into a brief mambo as the percussionists rejoined, before leading back to the original tango.

We heard strong solos from the alto saxophonist Luis Beltrán and both trumpeters who provided a study in contrasts. The lead trumpeter Eddie de Armas Jr. played with the rubbery fluidity, associated with Duke Ellington’s long-time lead trumpeter William “Cat” Anderson, reaching stratospheric heights. His colleague, Osvaldo Fleiter, played some neat solos on flugelhorn, but the sound of his trumpet was broad and clear as a traditional Spanish horn player’s.

At midpoint, Chucho announced the arrival of the singer. Emilio Frias entered the stage in all black, except for a golden blazer. After that, the evening turned into an unmitigated salsa party. Despite the change in atmosphere, the band continued to play the complex arrangements sharply and with nuance. The dynamic range was remarkable, as a high point was reached with the horns blaring, only to be followed by a soft and sensitive sequence with delicate harmonies. On occasion, Valdés abandoned the piano and crossed the stage to stand in front of the horn section conducting them with his movements.

My jazz heart was rejoicing as people kept dancing and swaying during the lengthy instrumental passages. At one point, all horn players were trading fours on top of a one-chord salsa vamp producing truly inspiring snippets.

The crooner entirely captivated the audience, making us dance and sing along. The horn players produced the background vocals responding to the lead singer’s exhortations. I watched their elegantly synchronized, almost minimalistic dance steps while the rhythm was boiling.

When it came to end the show, the band didn’t just bow and walk away. They gathered into a cluster at the center stage. The horn players kept on playing their riff while the singer continued to sing as they all exited stage left. Needless to say, the audience would not allow their exit to be the end: loud claps and calls were rewarded by a lengthy encore.

I feel lucky that I finally, after all these decades of fandom, managed to catch Chucho Valdés and Irakere live.

Three Exceptional Female Musicians at Strathmore

Over the past month, I've had the privilege of attending performances by three remarkable female artists who graced the stage at the Music Center at Strathmore, situated in North Bethesda, Maryland. What made these experiences even more delightful was that each artist brought her unique cultural background to the forefront, adding depth and diversity to the music they shared.

The first of these performances, on September 29, featured the Paris-based Malian singer-guitarist, Fatoumata Diawara. Her show was a masterpiece, beginning with subtle, nuanced songs, transitioning into hauntingly beautiful melodies, and culminating in a spirited, unforgettable finale. What stood out was the international composition of her band, with members hailing from different corners of the globe – keyboards, guitar, bass, drums – each contributing their exceptional talents. In particular, the rapport between the bassist and the drummer was remarkable. Regrettably, I wasn't able to catch the names of all the band members, nor could I locate them afterward. The sole African in the group was the Cameroonian drummer; the rest were of different backgrounds, adding a unique flavor to the performance. Fatoumata herself showcased her guitar skills during about half of the set, delivering skillful solos in the Afropop style, which contrasted distinctly with the band's Brazilian guitarist. Notably, Fatoumata has proudly declared herself as the "first female solo electric guitar player in Mali," although I suspect she could expand that distinction beyond the geographical boundaries of her native country.

Most of Fatoumata's lyrics are sung in Bambara, her native language. While I couldn't grasp the meaning of her words, I've learned that her songs draw from her region's tradition of "songs of advice" and tackle various social and political issues, from female circumcision to the rise of fundamentalist Islam in the Sahel. Her powerful yet beautiful voice was captivating. Moreover, it was refreshing to hear her speak between songs, touching on African themes and the challenges faced by women, without venturing into the realms of intersectionality or gender fluidity that are so common topics in today's discourse.

The performance reached its climax as the leader donned a traditional Malian mask and engaged in exuberant, controlled movements, presumably rooted in Malian tradition. The show's conclusion transformed into a dance celebration, with several women invited to join the band on stage. The entire audience couldn't help but join in the festivities.

On October 6, the Music Center once again attracted a large crowd, this time for Anoushka Shankar's performance. While Fatoumata Diawara had drawn a significant African presence, this evening witnessed a substantial South Asian audience. The pre-show atmosphere was enriched by an art exhibition featuring works by local Indian artists. As always, the bars on two levels of the concert hall were bustling, creating a lively ambiance. On the orchestra level, a DJ played soft Asian-influenced music, accompanied by a lone white woman confidently dancing to the rhythm.

Anoushka's music, while equally emotionally charged, had a more subdued quality compared to her African counterpart. The musicians performed seated on stage, bathed in a soft ellipse of light within the otherwise dim concert hall. The Music Center is known for its exceptional acoustics, which enhanced this highly nuanced performance. Anoushka, daughter of the legendary sitar virtuoso Ravi Shankar (and half-sister of Norah Jones), who also mentored her in her formative years, proved herself as a phenomenal sitar player. Her repertoire extended beyond the boundaries of classic Indian music, revealing clear influences of jazz, all while maintaining its foundation in Indian classical music.

The London-based ensemble, featuring Arun Ghosh on clarinet, Sarathy Korwar on Western drums, Pirashanna Tevarajah on Indian percussion, and Tom Farmer on double bass, showcased their mastery of both musical traditions. This quintet had premiered in India in December 2022 and received acclaim as one of Anoushka Shankar's most exceptional lineups over her nearly three-decade-long career. Each member displayed virtuosity, creating exquisite moods in intense jams as well as in meditative pieces. I do have to highlight Arun Ghosh, whoes clarinet performance was particularly outstanding—perhaps the best I’ve ever heard live—with moments of soaring brilliance and mournful resonance.

Anecdotes and insights provided by the leader added a personal touch to the evening. Anoushka mentioned that it was Sarathy Korwar's birthday, and, interestingly, he had been born in Bethesda but had never returned since infancy. Throughout the performance, the camaraderie among the musicians was palpable, and Anoushka's brief remarks between tunes conveyed her genuine warmth.

Although there was no dancing during this concert, it culminated in a standing ovation, indicating the audience's appreciation. I had hoped to greet the star and purchase a signed copy of her new mini-album, but by the time I reached the lobby, the line had grown so long that I decided to forgo it and head straight to the subway.

Nearly two weeks later, on October 19, it was time to experience Hiromi's Sonicwonder. The Grammy-winning Japanese pianist and composer was on tour to promote her recently released album, which shared the same name. In Japan, she goes by her full name, Hiromi Uehara, but in the West, her first name is sufficient, making her distinct from other artists. The band she led was another tight-knit ensemble of four incredible musicians, with the bassist Hadrien Feraud occupying a central role. The Frenchman's skillful play on the 5-string bass guitar seamlessly complemented Hiromi's performance. The drummer, Gene Coye, played a pivotal role in maintaining the rhythm. His marked the third performance by an exceptional drummer in this series of concerts, all of whom were previously unfamiliar to me.

What stood out for me was the trumpeter, Adam O'Farrill, whose melodic and expressive playing brought a calming element to the energetic repertoire. His broad sound and judicious phrasing added depth to the performance.

Hiromi showcased her incredible piano skills during the concert, alternating between the grand piano and two smaller electronic keyboards, sometimes playing them simultaneously. Her technical prowess as a pianist is truly remarkable. The majority of the pieces played were up-tempo, with frantic bursts and lightning-speed runs by the piano-bass-drums trio, which at times left me somewhat exhausted. Consequently for me, the highlight of the evening was the solo piano rendition of the Beatles' "Blackbird" that Hiromi performed as the first encore. This was no ordinary folk interpretation; Hiromi, a highly physical player, used both hands to expand the harmonies into new dimensions. It was a nuanced and sensitive rendition of the classic pop song. The band returned for a final performance, leaving the audience in awe. Sonic wonder, indeed!

These three concerts unequivocally demonstrated that creative music is alive and well around the world. The performances by these three incredible women, from Mali, India, and Japan, brought together extraordinary international ensembles, uniting musicians of diverse backgrounds and talents to create music firmly rooted in tradition, yet offering a fresh and unprecedented musical experience. 

Monterey Jazz Festival on Tour @ The Music Center at Strathmore, March 21, 2019

It was an entertaining and varied night, even though it was the same combination of six musicians throughout, and it led to two standing ovations from the large crowd at the Strathmore in North Bethesda. There were hundreds of people in the audience despite the pouring rain that had led to a flood warning across the entire capital region.

The program had been put together by Christian Sands, a phenomenal pianist with a highly unique style. Taking a youthful orchestra on tour to celebrate the legendary Monterey Jazz Festival that is now in its 62^nd year was a great idea. Another innovation was to have the frontline horns performed by two young ladies, Bria Skonberg and Melissa Aldana. The classic jazz quintet was completed by the bassist Yasushi Nakamura and drummer Jamison Ross. The singer Celine McLorin Savant would come and go throughout the evening.

This outfit, it turned out, was capable of wide-ranging versatility in terms of style, while mostly maintaining its post-bop sensibilities, combining both original pieces as well as well-chosen and not worn-out compositions by others. Sands had contributed a few of the ensemble pieces that swung in a straight beat, but always with a twist, with the horns blowing the lead. Sands has an ability to write jazz tunes that are original and complex, yet still pleasing. They also provided ample solo space to all players, not least the horns.

The Chilean Melissa Aldana is undoubtedly one of the best sax players around today. Despite being only 30, she is a very mature player who is fluent in the jazz vernacular. Last year I heard her with her own quartet blowing hard at the DC Jazz Festival. She possesses full control of her horn frequently utilizing its full range – she seems to enjoy the low honks on her big pipe. Her sound is full and sonorous. She is also a highly creative improviser. Watching her is a visual reminder that playing a musical instrument is not only an intellectual and emotional exercise, but also a physical one. Her whole body follows the movements of her music, and she rises on the tips of her toes as she climbs up the scales.

Compared with her South American counterpart, Canadian Bria Skonberg has a more limited vocabulary on the trumpet. She is a solid player with a clear sound and wide range. But her chops just aren’t as smooth and inventive as those of Aldana’s. Skonberg played fine and handled the at times complex horn parts perfectly, but her soloing in the more modern idiom left something to be desired. This is understandable given Skonberg’s past focus on more traditional jazz.

The rhythm section of Yasushi Nakamura and Jamison Ross worked perfectly together. Nakamura is a powerful bass player who is also very inventive in his approach. His sound is strong and solid. In contrast, Jamison Ross’ drum work tends to be quite fluid. He keeps the time but in a loose manner creating light polyrhythmics on his small set. This pair complemented each other excellently.

Ross also got his shining moment on stage. He introduced himself as someone who has been singing all his life and who admires singing drummers, like Grady Tate. He then proceeded to perform a soulful ballad which allowed him to demonstrate his clear high-pitched voice and similar melodic fluidity as evident in his drumming.

Cecile McLorin Salvant was a new acquaintance to me – but not to my friend Freddie with whom I had come to the concert. She turned out to be a highly skilled vocalist (she used to study classical and baroque singing in France before turning to jazz) – but not gimmicky like so many other jazz singers. There was nothing artificial about her singing. Apart from one Betty Carter number, all of the songs that she would perform throughout the night were her own, a few of them written only a couple of weeks ago, still without titles. They were all beautiful and had at times funny and very human lyrics. The only issue may have been that they were all ballads, quite slow and featuring her voice in a rubato setting (Freddie confirmed that’s her style). Sands had strategically spaced them out throughout the program, so that speedier numbers livened up the mood in between.

Having said that, a highlight of the show was one of Cecile’s yet unnamed songs to which Melissa had written an extended introduction that featured elaborate arpeggios on the tenor sax and very sensitive interplay with the piano.

If I had to pick one number, though, that was the high point of the evening for me, I would have to select Christian Sands’ masterful rendition of an aria from Puccini’s Tosca. He started it as a solo piano number, his style mixing some jazzy harmonies into the classical tune. Later the bass and drums joined in but the mood remained serious building to a powerful crescendo before returning to the melancholy theme. Sands who is always an extraordinary player here made a performance that brought tears to my eyes.

Naturally, as these things go, the latter part of the concert provided some funkier stuff, including a Sands piece for the quintet in the tradition of Sonny Clark and Horace Silver, and a Yasushi Nakamura original – Yasugaloo -- a boogaloo with a strong beat and funky horn riffs. It also featured a powerful bass solo from the Tokyo-born composer.

Bria Skonberg had a chance to demonstrate her bravado in a solo number, a traditional jazz show tune by Valaida Snow. Snow (1904-1956) was a rare female jazz trumpeter at her time and a good one: Louis Armstrong called her the “second best trumpet player in the world” (after himself, of course), which earned her the nickname “Little Louis.” Here Bria was in her natural element, singing the lead vocals, interacting with the enthusiastic audience and playing the trumpet solos with a flair that was genuine to the era. During this number she seemed to switch her personality to free expression from her somewhat more restrained performance during the earlier part of the evening.

Cecile McLorin Salvant returned once again for the encore. Standing on the edge of the stage, she started her song without a microphone, her voice carrying beautifully over the large concert hall. This was a highly unusual encore and final number, a hauntingly beautiful story of a love that was lost performed only by Cecile, Bria and Jamison singing in ethereal harmonies with the latter providing atmosphere with mallets on his drums. The beautiful evening was thus over.

Pharoah Sanders @ DC Jazz Festival

The annual DC Jazz Festival had a fabulous start for me. It came in the shape of Pharoah Sanders and his group that performed on Saturday, June 9^th, at the City Winery. Despite having been a fan since the 1970s, I had actually never witnessed the legendary saxophonist perform live. I had invested in a prime seat at a table next to the stage and ordered a carafe of nice Sauvignon Blanc, so I was ready for the experience. And it didn’t disappoint me. In the bar waiting for the show to start I happened to sit next to a young man who drew my attention because he was reading an actual physical book while sipping a glass of Pinot Noir. Matthew had recently moved to DC for his first job after college. I was delighted to find that such a young person was a great fan of Pharoah Sanders. And not only that: the book he was reading turned out to be the Kenyan author and academic Ngugi wa Thiong’o’s Devil on the Cross. My faith in the future of humankind restored, I was in a suitable mood to receive Pharoah’s delivery of the universal language of music.

The group started with a lengthy meditative piece, a trademark of the master on which he played soothing long sounds on his tenor against a background of a bowed bass and drums played on soft mallets. The pianist ventured into a thoughtful solo while the leader sat down and listened with his eyes closed. The first piece then turned into a second, a medium-tempo modal tune with Spanish overtones. It provided a superb vehicle for all of the musicians’ solos. The piano solo reminded me of McCoy Tyner or Lonnie Liston Smith, both Sanders collaborators in the past. The drummer produced a highly musical solo against a steady rhythm provided by the bassist, his kit placed low with even the cymbals in a horizontal position. His work was complemented by that of the fierce looking percussionist wearing long-horned headgear.

Sanders at 77, his long beard now totally white, initially appeared slightly wobbly, taking short steps and sitting down frequently, but as the concert progressed he gained strength moving across the stage in tandem with the rhythms of the music. It was clear that he enjoyed the performance and listened appreciatively to his younger sidemen. He drew the audience along into a celebratory mood.

Sanders’ name is inextricably linked to that of John Coltrane. In 1964 Trane asked him to sit in with his band and, although Sanders never formally became a member of the group, he was a regular collaborator until Coltrane’s death in 1967. His own debut album as leader also came out in 1964. In those times, Sanders played unmitigated aggressive free jazz and had a raw, abrasive sound, which belied his history as a be-bop and R&B sax man. After Trane’s death, he collaborated for a while with the great man’s widow, the pianist and harpist Alice Coltrane. In the 1970s, Sanders’ style softened and became distinctly more lyrical, gaining influences from Asian music without losing its edge. This was the side of him we heard at the City Winery: a tenor sound that was mostly smooth and beautiful only to be punctuated by abrupt shrieks and honks.

Then another surprise move from the master as he launched into a rendition of the classic ballad A Nightingale Sang on Berkeley Square. It was a powerful yet lyrical performance that transfixed the audience. At the end of his solo, Pharoah even briefly allowed a rare glimpse at his be-bop chops.

The superb concert ended with a joyful romp in calypso style. It inspired the old master himself to dance to the music produced by his excellent band. Needless to say, the room exploded in a standing ovation as the music ended. Unfortunately, we were not treated to an encore, but we could all go home with a satisfied mind and a smile on our faces.