Gershwin++ from Thibaudet and Feinstein

Michael Feinstein at his club Feinstein's/54 Below in 2017 (photograph by Lepestate taken on June 8, 2017, from Wikimedia Commons, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license)

Last night was one of those rare occasions when the San Francisco Symphony (SFS) performs in Davies Symphony Hall for a Great Performers Series program. The “great performers” were two pianists with highly different backgrounds. Jean-Yves Thibaudet first performed with SFS in 1994 and has been a frequent visitor to Davies since then. Michael Feinstein, on the other hand, has a nightclub at the Nikko Hotel called (what else?) Feinstein’s at the Nikko. He also often adds vocals to his piano work.

The title of last night’s program was Two Pianos: Who Could Ask for Anything More? Those recognizing the question as words from a song were probably not surprised that the second half of that program was devoted entirely to George Gershwin, who also occupied a generous portion of the first half. The other composers contributing to that portion were (in order of appearance), Richard Rogers, Leslie Bricusse, George Gershwin, Vincent Youmans, and Leonard Bernstein.

Both Thibaudet and Feinstein were well enough established in their reputations to deliver performances in which the music mattered more than the musicians. Their approaches to repertoire may have been different; but their delivery was consistently solid, whether it involved an arrangement of one of Gershwin’s piano preludes or an instrumental account of an affectionate standard, such as “The Man I Love.” Most importantly, while the program was more than abundant over the course of the entire evening, there was never the slightest feeling that things might be going on for a bit too long.

I must confess that, more often than not, I tend to shy away from the “pops” approach to many of the best selections of popular music from the twentieth century. Too many orchestral arrangements tend to overwhelm the spirit of music that required little more than a combo for backup. That said, Keith Lockhart’s approach to leading the SFS ensemble captured the spirit behind the many tunes that Thibaudet and Feinstein had selected.

In spite of the diversity of composers in the first half, last night’s program was very much a tribute to Gershwin and his legacy. Feinstein has been committed to keeping the flame of that legacy burning, and last night it was clear that Thibaudet was just as eager to keep that commitment. My guess is that anyone from my generation in the audience relished every moment; and, on the basis of audience response, there is some hope that at least one more generation will be willing to carry the torch.

Back to the Dream-World

[updated 2/2/ 1:50 p.m.: Prior to the correction of a spelling error, this article first appeared in October of 2008.]

Today's performance by the Russian Chamber Orchestra under Alexander Vereshagin as part of the October Russian Music Festival organized by the Noontime Concerts™ series at Old St. Mary's Cathedral in San Francisco reminded me that Die Tote Stadt is not the only theatrical composition that spends the better part of its plot in the dream-world. Marius Petipa's ballet Raymonda, with music by Alexander Glazunov, goes into the dream-world in the second scene of its first act and remains there for all of its second act. Since this ballet was first presented in 1898, it predates The Interpretation of Dreams; and I doubt that Petipa would have had quite the analytic interest in dreams that occupied Sigmund Freud. Nevertheless, I once saw the Boston Ballet perform excerpts from Swan Lake as entertainment for a convention of the American Psychiatric Association, prefaced with remarks by dance critic Doris Hering to the effect that any prince who tells his mother that he wants to marry a swan must be ripe for analysis.

Similarly, one could approach Raymonda in terms of the psyche of its protagonist, who is basically a young woman who gets cold feet on her wedding night and dreams of being abducted by a Saracen chief who her betrothed had conquered in the Crusades. However, while both the music and the libretto of Die Tote Stadt delve deeply into the psyche of a man obsessed with his deceased wife, Raymonda is best known for the easily danceable music that Glazunov provided. Vereshagin presented a suite of four of those movements, all of which served primarily to revive memories of past ballet performances (in my case the American Ballet Theatre production staged by Rudolf Nureyev). Basically, this means that through Vereshagin the music conveyed its own sense of motion, sufficient to breath life into even the vaguest memories of a ballet company versed in the classical Russian style.

The rest of Vereshagin's program was also theatrical in nature, divided between opera and dance. While they were new to me, I suspect that the "Gavotte" and "Valse" that concluded the program were extracted from one (or two) of the "Ballet Suites" that Dmitri Shostakovich had composed for orchestra, not always with specific choreography in mind. I also suspect that the arrangement for chamber orchestra (strings and one percussion player) was Vereshagin's and was effective enough that one did not miss the usual lush orchestral sound characteristic of the composer.

On the opera side the program opened with the Polovtsian songs (rather than the more familiar dances) from the opera Prince Igor, by Alexander Borodin. Like the dances, these songs (again arranged for chamber orchestra without any vocalists) captured many of the idiomatic folk elements that can be found in the dances. Much of the rhetoric is similar, but there is a clear sense of a vocal line and accompaniment. The other operatic excerpt was the intermezzo from Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov's The Tsar's Bride.

Given Vereshagin's tendency to go "pops" with an encore, I wondered whether or not this concert would end with an encore of the "Tahiti-Trot," Shostakovich's orchestration (and arrangement) of Vincent Youmans' "Tea for Two." Those unfamiliar with this side of Shostakovich will probably appreciate the Wikipedia entry for this work:

The "Tahiti Trot" is Shostakovich's 1927^[1] orchestration of "Tea for Two" from the musical No, No, Nanette by Vincent Youmans. Shostakovich wrote it in response to a challenge from conductor Nikolai Malko: after the two listened to the song on record, Malko bet 100 roubles that Shostakovich could not completely re-orchestrate the song from memory in under an hour. Shostakovich took him up and won, completing the orchestration in around 45 minutes. The "Tahiti Trot" was first performed in 1928^[2], and has been a popular encore ever since. It was used as an entr'acte for the ballet The Age of Gold at the suggestion of conductor Alexander Gauk^{[citation needed]}.

However, the joy of this work really lies in Shostakovich's use of his orchestral palette; and I doubt that Vereshagin would have been able to maintain the Shostakovich flavor in a chamber orchestra version!

Michael Dease’s Tribute to Roy Hargrove

Michael Dease on the cover of his new album (courtesy of DL Media)

Michael Dease, who was born on August 25, 1982, taught himself to play trombone at the age of seventeen. He was skilled enough to join the inaugural class of the Juilliard jazz studies program led by Wycliffe Gordon. More recently, however, he has shifted his attention from low brass to baritone saxophone.

Grove’s Groove is Dease’s second album on which he plays his saxophone on all nine tracks. The title is a reflection on the late Roy Hargrove, whose instruments were trumpet and flugelhorn. It is also the title of the first track on the album, composed and arranged by trombonist Steve Davis, who plays trombone on all of the album tracks. Dease himself contributes only three of the tracks: “Seiko Time,” “Decisions,” and “Father Figure.” These are complemented by two “standards:” Vincent Youmans’ “Tea for Two” and Jay Livingston’s “Never Let Me Go.” Jocelyn Gould provides the vocals for these selections and also plays guitar. There are a generous number of other contributing performers, all of whom are credited on a track-by-track basis in the accompanying booklet.

Grove’s Groove will be released one week from today. As might expected, Amazon.com has created a Web page for processing pre-orders. Those of us that still hold a preference for “straight-ahead” jazz will probably be satisfied with all of the tracks, both Dease’s leadership and the overall balance of his ensemble. Having had some brief encounters with the baritone saxophone in my high school jazz group (my primary instrument was alto), I have to confess to a fondness for its deep sonorities. Dease’s tracks reawakened my memories of those sonorities, and I enjoyed the ways in which they reflected off of Davis’ trombone work.

These days I have no idea what listeners think about jazz, but those that share my fond recollections of the past are likely to be satisfied with what Dease and his colleagues have to offer.

The Style and Substance of Gretje Angell

courtesy of Play MPE

Recently Grevlinto Records released the debut album of Los Angeles-based jazz singer Gretje Angell entitled …in any key. It is a relatively modest offering, a little over 35 minutes presenting nine standards from a variety of different eras and genres. However, if the album is a reflection on the past, it is a welcome one.

I like to remind classical fans that Antonio Vivaldi’s ever popular Four Seasons collection of four violin concerts is actually part of a larger collection of twelve concertos entitled Il cimento dell’armonia e dell’inventione. That first noun is taken to mean a “contest” between harmony and invention; but the usual connotation of “cimento” seems to be that, if a test is at stake, it is a hard one. This brings to mind what television has done to the idea of a song contest, turning it almost into a bare-knuckle street fight. As a result, a latter-day Vivaldi might find it appropriate to address an ongoing contest between style and substance at the heart of these televised competitions.

I suppose I take refuge in jazz singing because, for the most part, it rises above the silly fray provoked by television producers who could care less about the sorts of priorities I value, such as attentive listening and music that deserves such listening. From that point of view, Angell provides one of the safer harbors I have recently encountered. The diversity of the songs recorded on this album make it clear that she appreciates how each song deserves its own distinctive style. At the same time, however, she never short-changes the substance of the tune provided by the composer to fit the words of the lyricist. One might say that the singer is confident enough to deliver a substantive account that prioritizes the song itself.

I also think it is worth crediting Dori Amarilio for the arrangements he provided. He is a guitarist and the only instrumentalist to appear on all nine tracks of the album. He is also the only accompanist for the last three tracks, Antônio Carlos Jobim’s “One Note Samba” (which begins with a ravishing a cappella passage from Angell), Vincent Youmans’ “Tea For Two,” and “Them There Eyes,” the joint effort of Maceo Pinkard, Doris Tauber, and William Tracey. The remaining tracks involve different combinations of instruments (including the strings of the Budapest Symphony Orchestra for Jimmy Van Heusen’s “Deep in a Dream”); and that variety does much to enhance the stylistic diversity of Angell’s approaches to substance.

The overall duration of the album may be brief for a compact disc, but there are big things in this small package.

Jazz Pianist Asherie Goes for Repertoire Breadth

Cover of the album being discussed, reproducing Egon Schiele’s 1910 “Composition with Three Male Nudes” (courtesy of Braithwaite & Katz)

A little over a week ago Capri Records released a new album featuring jazz pianist Ehud Asherie entitled Wild Man Blues. The title suggests a reflection back to the earliest days of jazz with a composition that has been attributed to both Jelly Roll Morton and Louis Armstrong with equal uncertainty. In fact, all eight of the tracks present selections that, one way or another, may be viewed as “historical.” Nevertheless, leading a trio whose other members are Peter Washington on bass and Rodney Green of drums, Asherie brings a contemporary perspective to whatever he chooses to play.

Only one composer rates more than a single track on this album. Charlie Parker is represented by both “Parker’s Mood” and “Chasin’ the Bird.” However, Asherie understands the thematic content well enough not only to tease out his own improvisations but also to undermine any listener’s preconceptions that this music was only suitable for bebop saxophone. Indeed, he seems more comfortable pursuing the potential of Parker’s inventive themes than he is on the title track, which, for my money, is a little bit too polite for the spirit of its times.

Curiously, Asherlie’s “comfort zone” seems to lie somewhere between the earliest down-and-dirty days of jazz and the emergence of bebop as we know it. He is quite at home with finding his own voice in George Gershwin’s “Oh, Lady Be Good!,” as well as in Vincent Youmans’ “Flying Down to Rio.” However, from that same period, his comfort zone seems to lie in the songs of Ary Barroso with “Na Baixa Do Sapateiro” (gorgeous melody). That attachment, however, probably has much to do with his having a Brazilian life partner, although those of my generation will probably recognize this tune from its appearance in the Walt Disney cartoon The Three Caballeros.

This may not be a particularly earthshaking album, but it is one that is sure to draw and hold the attention of the serious jazz listener.