Pitt Jazz Concert Report

What a week, eh? There is a lot to unpack from the turn of events that occurred on Tuesday and I'm not about to dig into here. I have my opinions on it and felt like slugging at least one person this week ("felt" is different than actually doing it, remember) and don't want to get into a debate about it. Wherever you are and whoever you are, I hope you're doing okay, all things considered. 

I sat down at the laptop this morning, thinking about an album that I wanted to write about, only to remember I never offered a dispatch on last week's Pitt Jazz Concert. So despite that fact that it happened a week ago, it felt like a quickie was in order. 

Chad Taylor, the new head of Jazz Studies at Pitt, understands that Pittsburgh likes its hard bop and isn't too certain about new things, so he programmed an evening that combined the best of both worlds, never playing it too safe or taking it too out. While the more adventurous moments provided the highlights and gave the ensemble the chance to really click, the standards portion also provided a pretty good time.

The evening honored local jazz godfather and drummer Roger Humphries and Philadelphia-born, internationally known bassist Reggie Workman. Along with those musicians, the ensemble included Taylor  (who alternated drum duties with Humphries), Pitt's Dr. Aaron J. Johnson (trombone, conch shells), Sumi Tonooka (piano), Jeff Parker (guitar), Brian Settles (tenor saxophone), Ingrid Jensen (trumpet), Immanuel Wilkins (alto saxophone) and Jessica Boykin Settles (vocals). My far away picture up above features Settles, Parker, Jensen, Workman and Wilkins.

Pitt's Bellefield Hall has a spacious auditorium with nearly 700 seats. Not quite the fancy space of the Jazz Concert's old home down the street, the Carnegie Music Hall, it also doesn't quite have the sound system to accommodate a group like this. The horns and Parker's guitar cut through, but the rhythm section sounded as if they were quite jelling at all times, which seemed less a symptom of the performance and more of the room.

Workman's compositions factored heavily into the two sets and they provided moments when the group really clicked. "Shades of Angola," which started set number two, caught the band in full gear. Taylor kicked it off with an unaccompanied solo, followed by Workman bowing beneath the bridge before kicking into a boppish vamp. Parker's bright tone and Tonooka's two-handed chords kept things exciting. 

His "Conversations" was a highlight in the first set, with Johnson blowing conch shells and Jensen delivering a sprite tone that evoked Out To Lunch-era Freddie Hubbard to these ears. 

With Humphries behind the drum kit and Jessica Boykin Settles on the mic, the first set included a version of Bobby Timmons' "Moanin'," with the lyrics Jon Hendricks penned for his version with Lambert, Hendricks and Ross. She paid tribute to vocalist Shirley Horn with "Here's to Life" but the ballad seemed like it could have been a chorus or two shorter. In the second set, she returned to the stage for a bold version of "Strange Fruit." "What a Little Moonlight Can Do," gave Parker and Wilkins (whose sense of invention was on display all night every time he soloed) some good space and might have been better with the sugary audience participation portion.

"Blues March" might be one of those songs that has become an easy blowing vehicle at jam sessions, but with Humphries leading the march, it served as a fitting way to close the evening, as well as a way to honor Benny Golson, who composed it and recently passed away.

In closing, there is the subject of etiquette. From my perch in the balcony, I didn't notice anyone leaving mid-performance, but friends sitting below said that some of the older patrons didn't have the patience to wait until intermission or the end of the night to leave. While I understand that, after 54 years, some people might expect to hear nothing more adventurous than "Killer Joe" and "Blue Bossa," it would be nice if people opened their minds a little to explore new ideas. After all, the music wasn't foisting Cecil Taylor-style attacks on them.

Closer to my seats, the couple in front of me seemed to be having a deep conversation throughout the evening. That is, they were when they weren't whipping out their devices and watching Pitt get clobbered in a football game. Once again, your reporter's pal on the floor also saw the same lack of social graces going on there. What's next - yelling during "Strange Fruit" if the team makes an interception? I know it was a rough game, but just because technology allows you to explore two Pitt events at once, it doesn't mean you should.

We've all seen or heard stories about the chatty person in the back of the jazz club during the set. DON'T BECOME THAT PERSON. (Please repeat the message to your friends.)