Center City Jazz Festival
April 30, 2016
"The Fifth Annual Center City Jazz Festival is officially sold out!" Thus tweeted a spokesperson from @ccjazzfest
two days before the start of Philadelphia
's annual celebration (most likely its founder, local trombonist Ernest Stuart
). I'm not sure if there was any backup plan for late stragglers; clearly the familiar crowd knew they didn't want to wait too long to get in on the festivities. The timing had it sandwiched between one dim dreary week and another, but the gods decided to give the city a clear, sunny and almost vaguely spring-like time for International Jazz Day on April 30th. Coincidence? Surely not.
Stuart's endeavor has grown from an uncertain 2012 Kickstarter campaign to a well-sponsored and enthusiastically attended affair that took over five venues this time around. Each hosted a series of acts, mostly from right in town or from New York City
, for a total of 20 performances and almost seven hours of musical enjoyment. It does leave one spoiled for choice in having to decide which place to hit during a given time slot, but that's probably not such a bad problem to have. At least it helped a little to have the set times occasionally staggered 15-45 minutes apart. Fergie's Pub
isn't the kind of place you usually think of when you imagine a music venue, but it's nothing if not homey. The upstairs room was already almost filled when Mike Cemprola
kicked off at the start of the afternoon. The saxophonist and his quartet gave one of the more straightforward club-style sets of the day, showing a little Sonny Rollins
influence (beyond their leisurely rendition of "Airegin," that is) and offering some new original pieces. It was a lively, swinging treat and an excellent setup for everything else still to come.
The big first-floor windows were open onto the street just up the block at Time Restaurant
(apparently named to suit the half-dozen clocks adorning the dining room, only one of them actually right). At the very least, watching and listening from the sidewalk was more convenient than playing sardines with the packed-solid standing crowd that had already formed inside the door. Anibal Rojas
and friends were brightening the place with a worldly mix of Latin feel and electric soul. Indoors or out, the neighborly feeling of community was there for everyone to enjoy, whether they were getting cozy together by choice or otherwise.
Half a block over and around the next corner, Franky Bradley
's is a place already familiar with many varieties of entertainment (wink wink nudge nudge), so it wasn't out of character to host the fusiony good time offered by Three Oranges. The keys and guitar were funked up in classic fuzzy 70s style while the saxophone and horns out front topped it off with a dash of soul. These fellows know how to make a room hop. It was by far the biggest space of all the day's venues, but the seats were already full and the outer floor space was also filling up fast. Just when it seemed they were trying to blow a fuse, they decided to ease into a little swing with Willard Robison's "Old Folks." Dynamic they certainly are; predictable they're not. Masami Kuroki
was perfectly at home on Time's bandstand, seeing as how he was one of the first performers to play there when the place first opened. It was quite a change from the venue's previous set, replacing the modern electric trappings with some sweet-toned guitar in the vein of Jim Hall
. The quintet's treatment of "Eleanor Rigby" almost ventured a bit too close to Muzaka treatment with steel drums, no lessuntil a lively break spiced it up and brought the loudest cheers yet from the room. He's one of those performers that can't seem to stop smiling big, letting you know he's feeling it as much as you are.
On the surface The Jost Project
is arguably even more at risk of venturing into elevator-music territory just because of what they dobringing a smooth acoustic treatment to their roots in classic rock and roll. It's a way to grab some ears and "maybe try to bring more listeners to jazz," as vocalist Paul Jost
put it early in their set upstairs at Milkboy, in between unfamiliar arrangements of Joe South, Donovan and Paul McCartney. With supple double bass and Tony Miceli
, a dead ringer for Jerry Garcia on vibes (errrr, pun unintended), the mix was skillful and vigorous enough to avoid novelty status. The audience sang along and laughed especially heartily at "Walk This Way," even before it got a helping of Tony Bennett