The late pianist Jack Brownlow will be honored today on the radio. Bruno died on October 27 at the age of 84.
Jim Wilke will devote his Jazz Northwest program on KPLU-FM to Bruno and his music. That’s at 1:00 p.m. Pacific Standard Time, 4:00 Eastern. To listen live in the Seattle-Tacoma area go to 88.5 FM. To hear the program on the internet click here.

Seattle, Washington, November 10
Preoccupied with death and its aftermath for two weeks, I decided to seek out life, so I went to Serafina.
Serafina is not a girl friend. It’s a restaurant. Arriving at 7:15, I asked the hostess for a table for one. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but she refrained from saying, “In your dreams.”
“Maybe by 9:30,” she said, “but if you’d like to wait for something to open up at the bar, you can eat there. Full menu.” It was like being back in New York, even unto the fashionably hip, mostly young, crowd.
The bar has maybe ten stools. They were all occupied, and there was a phalanx three deep trying to find enough elbow room to hoist their aperitifs. Fat chance, I thought, but I ordered a glass of wine and stood chatting with a woman who lives in the neighborhood. She asked what I do. I told her. She asked what I’d written lately. “Ah,” she politely responded, and asked me to spell Poodie. “I read a lot,” she said. “Mysteries. Can’t get enough of them. Lately, it’s been James Lee Burke. I knew I should have come earlier. It’s like this on Saturdays.” She disappeared into the Eastlake Avenue night.
A man yielded his stool. The heftier bartender with the grey beard waved me forward. I indicated the rest of the waiting crowd. He shrugged. We shook hands and exchanged names. He was Matthew. His colleague, tall and lean, was Matthias. “Matt and Matt,” he said. There is little more satisfying than the pleasure of watching people do what they do well and enjoying it. These guys were craftsmen. Matthew’s creation of a chocolate martini, something I can’t imagine drinking, was bartender ballet.
I ordered the Trota al Tortufo, roasted trout stuffed with artichokes and truffles finished with a black truffle-butter sauce, served with sautéed spinach. Matthias suggested an Italian white wine, Vermentino Sardegna Pala Crabilis. It was an inspired pairing. For dessert, he recommended a pumpkin something or other, but I had a double espresso and the chocolate tort, or Torta di Cioccolata e Mandorla, as such things are called when they cost a lot.
“The pastry chef shows up every afternoon and does these incredible things,” Matthew said, “then she disappears. Her name is Mei.” With Mei’s tort and the espresso, I hit my second daily double of the meal.
Serafina was beyond crowded, pulsing with life, noise and happiness. Just what I needed.
This is quite likely the only restaurant review I will ever write. Grazie, Serafina.

Nearly every waking hour is consumed by the task at hand–the settlement of a friend’s estate–but I manage to grab a few minutes here and there in an attempt not to fall too far behind events and ideas. In August, I wrote at some length about Maria Schneider’s CD Sky Blue. Today, I caught up with Francis Davis’s October 30 commentary in The Village Voice about Schneider’s relative importance as a composer. It is a thoughtful piece full of insights that, it seems to me, put her in proper perspective. Here is a key section that follows a keenly observed background paragraph preparing us to consider Schneider as a successor to Duke Ellington, Charles Mingus and Gil Evans.

Though some might deem it premature to advance Maria Schneider to the pantheon just yet, at 47 she seems to me to have all the qualifications, right down to a core of steadfast orchestra members: “Those guys play her music like they’d take a bullet for her,” another composer remarked enviously following a recent performance. Schneider’s new Sky Blue makes it easy to hear why.

To read all of Davis’s essay, go here.
Rifftides will be back in full swing as soon as possible. Among other things, I plan to watch and report on the rest of the new Jazz Icons DVD series. In the meantime, please stay in touch, either by comments (link at the end of items) or by way of the e-mail address in the right-hand column.

At Seattle’s Jazz Alley, Luciana Souza began and ended her long single set with the Brazilian music that is her birthright and her glory. She also sang several pop-cum-bossa nova songs from her album The New Bossa Nova, but it was the old bossa nova that lifted her performance and lit up the audience. She opened with João Gilberto’s “Adeus América,” rubbing softly on the head of a tambourine as she sang, Keith Ganz strumming quiet harmonies on his green guitar.
Souza described the nature of the bossa nova. “It is about reverence for the music and the words,” she said. “More is less.” With Ganz’s guitar, Matt Aranoff’s bass and occasionally her wire brushes on a red cardboard box top, she spent an hour-and-a-half demonstrating the esthetic. Following the vivacity and sense of discovery in her Brazilian Duos and Brazilian Duos II, Souza seemed subdued in covers of somber songs by Joni Mitchell, Randy Newman, James Taylor, Brian Wilson and others. Still, the perfection of her voice, her impeccable time and the radiance of her personality proscribe dullness.

Luciana Souza
Crediting Frank Sinatra as a primary influence for “his diction, delivery, maturity,” she sang a slow “You Go To My Head” incorporating rhythmically daring repeated phrases that would have crashed on the shoals of lesser musicianship. Accompanying herself on a thumb piano, she recited Pablo Neruda’s “Sonnet # 49” from her Neruda CD. Souza developed “Sometimes I’m Happy” as an architectonic progression, with only bass accompaniment for the first chorus, bringing in guitar under her voice and introducing melodic variations and wonderfully flexible phrasing in the second, scatting the third, giving Ganz the freedom to play a solo marinated in rich chord substitutions, and ending the final vocal chorus in unison with her accompanists on a tag from Thelonious Monk’s “I Mean You.”
When she returned to the Brazilian repertoire, she energized the club with “So Danco Samba,” including a scat chorus of vocalise, and with “Aguas de Marco.” As an encore, she all but reinvented “Corcovado” with a slow rubato first chorus leading into melodic variations over adventurous reharmonizing by Ganz and Aranoff. She sang it in Portuguese, except for one line of Gene Lees’ famous English lyrics.

Quiet nights of quiet stars,

quiet chords from my guitar

floating on the silence that surrounds us.

A bewitching ending to the evening.

Noticing that I am on temporary or intermittent leave, Rifftides Washington, DC correspondent John Birchard leaps into the breach with a review.

JOHN PATITUCCI

By
John Birchard
Like Jimmy Blanton, Scott LaFaro died ‘way too young. But, in their brief times on earth, both men had an immediate and profound effect on the way jazz is played on the bass. It’s hard to overestimate their influence on succeeding generations.
One of the worthy successors to Blanton and LaFaro played the K.C. Jazz Club at the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC on November 2nd. John Patitucci brought two friends – the guitarist Larry Koonse and the drummer Brian Blade. We caught the first of two sets.
The trio attracted a number of Washington-based musicians, including bassist Tom Baldwin. We sat next to Baldwin and his 8-year-old son Benjamin, a piano student. The program began with some bop for the people, Charlie Parker’s “Visa,” Patitucci digging in strong from the beginning on the acoustic bass and Brian Blade especially crisp and imaginative with his fills.
Though we tend to think of Patitucci as among the younger crop of jazz musicians, he has been on the national stage since the mid-1980s, establishing himself with Chick Corea over a ten-year period. His playing combines the strong time sense of the Blanton-Ray Brown school with the fleet-fingered dexterity of LaFaro. He has recorded extensively with everyone from Wayne Shorter to Queen Latifah and has more than a dozen recordings as a leader.

John Patitucci
The Kennedy Center program included a number of attractive Patitucci originals. “Agitato” found Brian Blade setting the tempo with a Latin rhythm with the leader then stepping in and finally guitarist Koonse contributing a well-conceived solo made of up alternating single-note lines and interesting chords on the minor-keyed melody. Patitucci was again the muscular underpinning for the piece. He puts lots of body English into his playing and his expressive face shows the passion he pours into his performances.
Patitucci described his “Tone Poem” as sounding as “if Sibelius played 6-string bass.” He picked up the electric instrument and showed the chops of a guitarist (which he was as a youngster) on the unaccompanied, out-of-tempo performance. A quiet, lovely moment.
Next came “The Root”, another original by the bassist who stayed with the six-string. He smilingly sub-titled the piece “Bach Goes to Africa.” It’s a gentle melody with a feeling of ¾ time. Blade distinguished himself here with some sensitive dynamics in accompaniment.
Patitucci switched back to the acoustic instrument for the title tune from his latest CD, “Line By Line” and again laid down some firm, earthy lines for the others to build on.
On an adaptation of Manuel de Falla’s lullaby “Nana,” Blade laid out while the leader demonstrated his arco abilities. He produces a sweet, singing tone with the bow, a pleasure to hear. Koonse’s role on the nylon-string acoustic guitar was mostly in sensitive accompaniment.
It was back to the electric bass as the trio picked up the tempo with an unusual approach to Monk’s “Evidence.” We had never heard the tune done as a calypso sort of samba, but it sure worked. In the midst of Patitucci’s solo, he busted the high C string on his instrument, but he never missed a beat, continuing to play with the broken string flailing around as he moved. The capacity audience cheered both the tune and the bassist’s unflappable demeanor.
The set closed with an encore – the original “Folk Lore,” which Patitucci calls his “Irish tune.” It’s a slow and expressive waltz with a plaintive melody. Blade was effective again in accompaniment, using a combination of brushes and mallets.
The trio produced a varied and interesting set that was recorded for later broadcast on NPR’s Jazz Set with DeeDee Bridgewater. Koonse and Blade make valuable contributions and the leader is quick to credit them. John Patitucci combines a friendly, outgoing personality as a leader with his well-earned reputation as a first-class bass player.
Tom Baldwin and son Benjamin, the budding pianist, pronounced themselves pleased with the performances — and your fthful crspndnt couldn’t agree more.

A fine report. Thanks, John.

Today’s Seattle Times has a substantial obituary of Jack Brownlow. It begins:

Jack Brownlow learned to play the piano by ear at age 12. By his late teens, he was an accomplished professional. Although he never sought a national stage, he made a stir here as a musician’s musician, a quiet pianist known best for his harmonic sophistication and his encyclopedic knowledge of songs.
When he first heard Mr. Brownlow play, Paul Desmond, the alto saxophonist and lead soloist in the Dave Brubeck Quartet, reportedly remarked: “If I played piano, that’s how I’d want to play it.”

To read the whole thing, go here.
Rifftides will resume normal operation eventually. This executorship business is going to be full time for at least a few days. I hope to find time for a report on Luciana Souza’s perfomance at Jazz Alley. Please check in now and then.

Thanks to all of you who have sent condolences. Some of you were friends of Jack Brownlow (see the next item). Others knew him only by his music. A few have asked if his CDs are available. This web site says it has them.
I’m doing the things an executor does. It will take full attention. Blogging will be intermittent, if at all, for a few days.

Rifftides will be in suspension for a while. I don’t know for how long. Two years ago, I wrote this about a great pianist:

Jack Brownlow, at 81, has doggedly refused to let a round of health problems put him out of commission. He is gigging less, but a stream of colleagues comes to his house to play music with him and learn from him. He is an inspiration to them, as he has been to me since I was sixteen.

This evening, the health problems won. I’ve lost my best friend, a wise teacher, the older brother I never had, a musician who from the time I was a child moved me with the profound beauty of his playing.

Jack Brownlow
When Paul Desmond heard Jack for the first time, he said, “If I played piano, that’s how I’d want to play it.”
There is a lot to sort out. I’ll check back in as soon as possible.

We continue the Rifftides survey of the second release of Jazz Icons DVDs. For earlier reviews of the Mingus and Ellington discs, go here.
In addition to their first-rate musical material and high production values, the Jazz Icons discs–unlike far too many DVDS–provide background about the music and the artists. Each includes a booklet with discographical information, photographs, and program notes by knowledgable experts. Patricia Willard wrote essays for the Ellington disc and for the Sarah Vaughan.
Sarah Vaughan Live In ’58 & ’64 (Jazz Icons)
In her 1958 appearances in Sweden and Holland, the singer was in her mid-thirties, a seasoned performer but still shy before audiences and cameras. The girlish reticence that was part of her persona and her charm is on the film that went into this DVD, and so is bewitching singing from an extraordinary time in her career. Vaughan’s discography of the late fifties is rich with gems, including the first recording of “Misty,” her live date at Mr. Kelly’s in Chicago and her initial dates with Quincy Jones and members of the Count Basie band. Much of the cream of that repertoire is represented here, including “Lover Man,” “Sometimes I’m Happy,” “Mean To Me” a sublime “Over The Rainbow” and a supremely relaxed up-tempo “Cherokee.” She was in perfect voice–she was nearly always in perfect voice–with few of the mannerisms that crept in later. With perfect time, intonation and taste, she is hand-in-glove with her trio, pianist Ronell Bright, bassist Richard Davis and drummer Art Morgan.
By 1964 in Sweden, there were hints of grand operatic tendencies, but not to the extent that sometimes took the edge off Vaughan’s later work. She was more elaborately gowned and coifed and had developed a polished stage presence. Vaughan had updated her repertoire with Bernstein’s “I Feel Pretty” and “Maria” from West Side Story and with “Baubles, Bangles and Beads,” but the highlights of the set are a joyous “I Got Rhythm” with finger-snap accompaniment, and a definitive slow performance of “The More I See You.” Her trio is pianist Kirk Stuart, drummer George Hughes and the young Buster Williams on bass.
Dave Brubeck Live In ’64 & ’66 (Jazz Icons). Full disclosure: I wrote the foreword to Darius Brubeck’s notes for this DVD of a pair of European concerts by the classic Brubeck Quartet. Here is the first part:

Aside from its music, which is among the best I have heard in hundreds of hours of listening to the classic Dave Brubeck Quartet, this DVD explains an essential element of the band’s huge success. Concert audiences made the Brubeck group a phenomenon, at first on college campuses, then in the world at large. Listeners in concert halls and clubs could see the esteem and fondness Brubeck, Desmond, Wright and Morello had for one another.
Without a trace of artifice or overt showmanship, the four displayed the enjoyment they got from playing together. It was infectious. People who may not have known a quarter note from a mouthpiece were captivated as they shared in the quartet’s naturalness with the creative process.

The concerts in Belgium and Germany capture that naturalness, with the quartet at or near a peak of performance. In “St. Louis Blues,” which they must have played a thousand times, Joe Morello and Gene Wright lock up in a way justifying Wright’s claim that their togetherness was “like Jo Jones and Walter Page with Count Basie.” In a delicious video moment, the alert director switches to a shot that captures the camaraderie of the bassist and drummer who called one another, “Section.” There are two versions of “Koto Song.” Both have remarkable minor blues solos by Paul Desmond. Brubeck is at his most ethereal and impressionistic in the one before a German audience.
The two “Take Fives,” are relaxed and flowing. Morello, who introduced 5/4 time to the quartet in the late fifties, creates a structurally perfect piece of musical architecture in the ’64 performance in Belgium. The concerts also include “Three to Get Ready,” “I’m In A Dancing Mood,” “In Your Own Sweet Way,” “Forty Days” and “Take The ‘A’ Train.” In both cases, the simplicity of the stage settings and the direction imparts a timeless quality to the look of the video. Sound quality is more than acceptable. This is the best Brubeck on DVD.
Coming up: The Wes Montgomery, Dexter Gordon and John Coltrane Jazz Icons DVDs.

Miles Davis: You know you can’t play anything on a horn that Louis hasn’t played.
Dizzy Gillespie: No him, no me.