Lionel Hampton Jazz Festival
Moscow, Idaho
2/23/07
Here’s a quick update on highlights of a few of the dozens of festival events since the last posting.
Last night’s concert ran past midnight. It was dedicated to the late bassist Ray Brown and featured colleagues who achieved fame as sidemen in Brown’s bands. Pianist Benny Green’s trio with bassist Christian McBride and drummer Jeff Hamilton set a high standard with an explosive performance of Brown’s “Buhaina Buhaina.” My notes say, “Hamilton likes to swing.” The more intense the rhythm became, the broader grew Hamilton’s smile. He smiled constantly.
Lynn Skinner, the retiring founder of the festival, introduced Roberta Gambarini by quoting Hank Jones from a phone call earlier in the day. He said Jones had called Gambarini, “the finest vocalist I’ve heard in the past 60 years.” Then, with McBride, Hamilton, guitarist Russell Malone and her empathetic piano accompanist Tamir Hendelman, she demonstrated what led to that exalted level of praise. Gambarini is deceptive; she makes perfection in every department–swing, intonation, diction, control, coloration, taste, intepretation of lyrics–seem easy. Earlier in the day, at a vocal workshop, Gambarini gave a good-natured exhibition of the kind of over-the-top vocalizing that in jazz circles too often passes for singing. Toward the end of last night’s concert, Jane Monheit also sang. I don’t think that she attended Gambarini’s workshop.
In two sets, one with a quartet, one with a trio, pianist Monty Alexander achieved the power, drama and propulsion of his work with Brown thirty years ago. He reached a climax of hard, happy swing in the reunion of his trio with Hamilton and bassist John Clayton. Their “Battle Hymn of the Republic” had the musicians in the backstage bistro area riveted to the big monitor screen and cheering along with the audience when Alexander’s roaring performance ended.
At the after hours jam session, the student alto saxophonist Grace Kelly from Massachusetts sat in with a group that included veteran guitarist John Stowell. I know of no explanation other than genius for this slender fourteen-year-old girl’s attainment of maturity in her art. She has mastery of the instrument, passion, profound swing, and judgment that one would expect in a player with twenty years of professional experience. The other jam session surprise was a vocal by guitarist Malone. With Miss Kelly and Stowell playing obligato, he sang an engaging “I’ve Grown Accustomed To Your Face.” The roomful of close listeners demanded an encore, which they did not get. “No more,” Malone announced, waving them off.