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2001 Ford Detroit International Jazz Festival

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Detroit, Michigan
August 31-September 3, 2001


James Carter


Bill Easley


Dave Valentin


Teddy Edwards


Herbie Mann


Christian McBride


Jane Bunnett


Now in its 22nd season, this year’s Ford Detroit International Jazz Festival proved to be somewhat of a watershed moment in the event’s history. A Labor Day weekend favorite for scores of North Easterners, this year’s fest introduced the maiden efforts of new Music Hall artistic director Frank Malfitano. While last year’s deficit forced cutting back from five stages to four, musically things were stronger than ever. In fact, the main changes were in the amenities category and the majority of these were for the better. A better choice of international food vendors in a more organized set-up allowed for a stress-free environment. Unfortunately however, a new philosophy of scheduling meant that many national acts overlapped in a manner that made it almost impossible to jump from stage to stage. Not helping matters was the further decision to put some of the larger acts at some of the smaller venues, a decision that was especially troublesome for Wallace Roney’s performance (more on that later). On a whole though, things managed to go swimmingly for most of the weekend.
Friday, August 31st
Although things got underway at about 4 pm, the three hour drive after work from Cleveland to Detroit put me onto Hart Plaza at just about seven, with pianist Benny Green just finishing a solo set that had the modest crowd on their feet. Up next was Christian McBride and his current band of all-stars that included tenor saxophonist Ron Blake, keyboard man Geoff Keezer, and drummer Tereon Gully. Sporting a Tiger’s jersey and cap, McBride burned with a funky set that got down to business from note one. “Sci-Fi” and a reworking of Steely Dan’s “Aja” brought forth some strong ensemble work and an equally engaging round of solos, Keezer switching back and forth between acoustic piano and various keyboards. McBride’s favored set closer of recent, a medley of Jaco Pastorius’ “Havona” and Joe Zawinul’s “Boogie Woogie Waltz” pulled out all the stops.

It was then time to move from the Amphitheatre Stage to the smaller Motor City Casino Pyramid Stage for the return of one of Detroit’s most admired musical sons, Tommy Flanagan. The 71-year-old pianist proved to be a real trouper throughout a somewhat truncated set. It was painfully obvious that he was feeling under the weather and he paused at length between numbers to get his energy together and to chat with the audience. Bassist Peter Washington and drummer Tootie Heath helped complete a classy trio and the tunes ranged from “Liza” to Bud Powell’s “Strictly Confidential.” At one point, a heckler made a request for “Giant Steps,” only to find Flanagan volley back sagaciously with, “I hate ‘Giant Steps,’ but I love John Coltrane.” At the conclusion of the five-song set, the crowd boisterously lauded one of their own heroes- a man who still seemed to have much to say even if the body wasn’t always willing.

Saturday, September 1st

One of the great treats of this year’s fest was the inclusion of many performers from the realm of Brazilian and Latin styles. Taking the Amphitheatre Stage on Saturday afternoon was the celebrated Brazilian composer and singer Ivan Lins. Immediately he cooed about how much he enjoyed performing live shows and went on to describe such happenings as analogous to a “non-stop flight.” Highlights included an agreeable Jobim tribute and a spate of samba favorites, including “Tristeza.” Backed by a crack team of gentleman from his homeland, Lins wowed those on hand for well over an hour and a rare encore was even forced by a crowd that included members of a local Brazilian club (in their yellow and green regalia and the flag of Brazil).

Following a quick bite to eat, it was back to the Amphitheatre Stage, now a sea of spectators jammed into some uncomfortable quarters made even more unbearable by the decision to close off a good portion of the area in front of the stage for VIP seating. Simply put, this meant that there just was not the room up front those regular attendees are used to and just getting through the aisles was a nightmare. Folks managed to carry on like real troupers though for the man of the hour was up next, the ubiquitous James Carter. With some dapper duds that highlighted by a white and black pinstripe suit, Carter led his “Chasin’ the Gypsy” ensemble that included violinist Marlene Rice and Peter Suave on accordion. Taking as their fodder material from Carter’s tribute album to Django Reinhardt, the ensemble made some delicate and simultaneously swinging sounds that found our often boisterous leading man artfully balancing those tendencies with the overall mood of each piece in mind. With bass saxophone in hand, Carter’s final offering, “Heavy Artillery,” wrapped up a colorful set full of the “sounds of surprise” that distinguish the best jazz performances.

Talk about a change of pace, the evening’s final performer would be none other than the renowned Jimmy Smith. Branded for years as a somewhat testy person who’s just as likely to play for hours as to pack up after one tune if something offends him, Smith was in rare form. Maybe it was because his session mates included guitarist Phil Upchurch, saxophonist Bill Easley, and drummer Tommy Campbell or possibly because he was getting a kick out of seeing himself on the large video screen (another festival first) that was allowing those way in the back to see what was happening on stage. With bullshit at a minimum and concentrated swing at a maximum, Smith and company started off by jamming on “Back at the Chicken Shack,” “Organ Grinder’s Swing,” and “Walk on the Wild Side.” For “Mood Indigo,” Easley stepped forward for some lush tenor work. Concluding a stimulating evening, Smith broke lose with “Got My Mojo Working” and even James Carter, who had made his way to a seat in front of the stage, couldn’t help but do some finger poppin’.

Sunday, September 2nd

With the afternoon being light in terms of national acts, it wasn’t until early evening that I decided to head back to Hart Plaza. Trumpeter Wallace Roney was set to perform at the new and poorly designed Absopure Waterfront Stage. As early as an hour and a half before show time, the limited area in front was already seething with large hordes of people. By the time the show got off to what proved to be a late start, things had swelled to the point that the only place to plop yourself was to stand at the right and left hand sides of the stage. With the emcee taking to the stage to bring on the band, shouts of “we can’t see” and “sit down” echoed loudly through the crowd as tempers flared. Fortunately, composure reigned, but all the discomfort could have been avoided by utilizing the larger Amphitheatre Stage.

Considering the way he’s fashioned his persona around the master, it was fitting that Roney would be presenting a tribute to Miles Davis. Both alto saxophonist Gary Bartz and tenor man Bennie Maupin had previously worked with Davis and made for a pungent front line. Rounding out this exemplary ensemble were keyboardist Adam Holzman, bassist Clarence Seay, and the great Billy Drummond on drums. It would be a decidedly fusion era approach that prevailed, reminding us instantly of the In a Silent Way/Bitches Brew period. Lengthy jams with Drummond pumping great energy into the whole affair were the norm for what had to be one of the festival’s unpredictable highlights.

Back to the Amphitheatre Stage it was time for what was billed as “Two Amigos.” Herbie Mann and Dave Valentin would share the stage, with Mann taking the lion’s share of the spotlight for a performance that may have not been as incendiary as the Roney set, but as satisfying and comfortable as your favorite old sweater. Backed modestly by guitar, bass, and drums (played by Herbie’s son Jeff), Mann got things going with “Dippermouth,” “Gypsy Jazz,” and “I Don’t Care Who Knows” before Valentin stepped on board for a stirring romp through “Comin’ Home Baby.” It was then a spirited samba made out of an unlikely “All Blues” that helped things round the corner towards home. Not surprisingly, a content crowd pleaded for more and “Memphis Underground” supplied a dynamic encore.

Monday, September 3rd

The final day’s offerings might have provided the most variety, especially if you parked yourself at the Waterfront Stage and just stayed all afternoon. Actually, I had some friends set up there as I got started over at the Pyramid Stage where Toledo-based singer Ramona Collins held forth with a snazzy performance and an accomplished backing group that included Cleveland jazz mainstay and drummer Greg Bandy. Standards like “God Bless the Child” and “Green Dolphin Street” were the fare, a tip of the hat to festival favorite Ivan Lins also provided via the inclusion of “Love Dance.” Collins knows how to belt out a tune and her effervescent personality helps make her a strong stage presence and a real treat to hear.

Flying in from two dates in Chicago at a competing festival, Los Angeles native and jazz ambassador Teddy Edwards had me quickly relocating to the Waterfront Stage. The National Jazz Orchestra of Detroit (yes, this orchestra included strings) was honoring the late Detroit jazz legend Harold McKinney and Edwards brought along his horn and charts to join this top-notch band led by Teddy Harris, Jr. Tunes like “Midnight Creeper” offered up some bristling excitement in the big band tradition and the 77-year-old Edwards never sounded better, his burnished tone and well executed solos bearing out his eminent status as a true legend.

The remainder of the evening’s sets would take us south of the border, starting with a native Canadian who has found inspiration in the music of Cuba. Jane Bunnett & Spirits of Havana explored folkloric pastures with the leader’s saxophones and flutes supported by an ensemble of young Cubans who were squarely within the tradition. Trumpeter Larry Kramer beefed up the front line with wife Bunnett, originals like “Joyful Noise” and “El Rio” providing a musical communion of bacchanalian proportions.

Before facing the long drive home and the end of an extraordinary four days of jazz, there was just time enough to split myself between two more acts. Up first, I’d take in the beginning few numbers from Pucho & the Latin Soul Brothers. Back in the ‘60s, Henry “Pucho” Brown and the guys would cut a series of hip recordings for the Prestige label, the originals now fetching mucho dolores (big bucks for you non Spanish speaking folks) and the reissues feeding the demands of the acid jazz crowd. Now, Brown is back with a reformed unit that does include a few of the original members, including Eddie Pazant. With the sun gleaming and those soft winds blowing off the lake, one couldn’t help but be caught up in the seduction of “Caravan,” “Cantaloupe Island,” and “Milestones.” But then I had to make a dash to catch the second festival performance by James Carter, this time leading an electric band in the spirit of his recent Layin’ in the Cut album. Not only was Carter wailing in predictable fashion, but also bassist Jamaaladeen Tacuma was slapping those strings with a vengeance, while Craig Taborn kept it all a bit on the funky side with some juicy organ and Fender Rhodes.

Still the largest free jazz festival in North America, the Ford Detroit International Jazz Festival offers more music than one person can possibly handle, the hundreds of local acts mixing in liberally with the national headliners. As such, my commentary has just focused on what I was personally able to attend. This year the highly favorable weather conditions were more than anyone could have asked for and another strong line-up should have helped those on hand go forth with a renewed spirit. One that would help make the end of summer just a little bit easier to bear.

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