Kenny Werner captivates a date-night crowd

When: Saturday, March 7, 2009 • Where: Dakota • Who: Kenny Werner, piano; Jorge Roeder, bass; Richie Barshay, drums; guest vocalist Debbie Duncan

The Dakota on a Saturday night can be a tough room for musicians, depending on what their expectations are. It's a big date night when people come to see and be seen, to hang out and sip martinis and be cool. Sometimes the crowd noise buries the music or turns it into wallpaper.

Not tonight. The curtain is open, the house is full, and people are here to listen to the Kenny Werner Trio’s poetry and elegance and sublimeness. Even if that’s not what they came for, they succumb.

Werner’s presence is a lucky break for us. He was already scheduled to be in Minnesota, performing at the Head of the Lakes Jazz Festival in Duluth on Thursday and Friday; apparently his Saturday was free and the Dakota booked him. Area vocalist Debbie Duncan, originally on the calendar for Friday and Saturday, will join the trio for part of the evening. Duncan and Werner met for the first time today. It’s jazz.

“With a Song in My Heart”: Big, lovely chords. Then a piece Werner introduces as “written for us by J.S. Bach; we’re honored.” Bach would have been honored by Werner’s respectful, inventive treatment of his “Sicilienne,” beginning with a lengthy improvised piano solo into which Roeder and Barshay delicately step. (I’m listening to the recording on Werner’s Form and Fantasy, Vol. 1 as I write this.) Something by Herbie Hancock. Werner’s “Peace.”



Duncan enters for Gershwin’s “Plenty of Nothin’” and Ellington’s “Sophisticated Lady.” I have heard Werner several times but never before with a singer (although he often plays with Betty Buckley, it hasn’t happened here). He and Duncan are a fine match and both seem happy with the results. We are.

Werner’s version of Brubeck’s “In Your Own Sweet Way” closes the first set. The second is just as luscious: Coltrane’s “26-2” (Werner notes that they changed it to “26-2-5”), a multilayered “Greensleeves,” the bright, sunny Bulgarian folk song “Nardis” (also on Form and Fantasy), “All Right with Me.”

Duncan returns with Monk’s “’Round Midnight” and sings the version she prefers, with lyrics by Jon Hendricks. She introduces it by explaining that “Hendricks’ words have a more positive swing to them” than the more commonly performed lyrics by Bernie Hanighen and Clarence Williams. Later, I compare.

Hanighen/Williams:
It begins to tell
’round midnight, midnight
I do pretty well
till after sundown
Suppertime I’m feelin’ sad
but it really gets bad
’round midnight.

Hendricks:
Tears you’ve shed today
will pause, waiting until tomorrow
Dreams of what could be
come close to me timidly
There’s a brand new day
in sight at the time
’round about midnight.

It’s a powerful and expressive performance during which Werner smiles broadly.

I have said almost nothing about Werner's new trio. (Previously I have heard him with Johannes Weidenmueller and Ari Hoenig, and with Toots Thielemans.) When Werner plays, my focus is almost entirely on him. He comes from such a deep place and brings so much with him--beauty, profoundness, wisdom, emotion, awareness, understanding--that it's all I can do to take in as much as I can before it melts into the air. His playing is food for spirit and soul. I think the audience knows that, even the fine young dandies with their dressed-up dates, and that's why they listen so hard.



Bassist Jorge Roeder and percussionist Richie Barshay are both very young (still in their 20s), though also very experienced: Barshay has been a member of the Herbie Hancock Quartet, Peruvian-born Roeder has performed and recorded with Hancock, Steve Turre, Roy Haynes and others. Next time I'll pay more attention to them.

Photos by John Whiting.

Toots Thielemans

Toots Thielemans has been named a 2009 National Endowment for the Arts Jazz Master, America's highest jazz honor.

He last came to the Dakota in April 2006 with his good friend and frequent touring partner, pianist Kenny Werner. Toots was about to turn 84.

Seeing him live is an unforgettable experience. Like being showered with gifts by someone who loves you and every gift is just what you want. Like sitting somewhere with a beautiful view and the sun warming your face. Like understanding that life is a mix of the sweet and the bitter and that's how it's supposed to be. Impossibly corny? Can't help it. I adore Toots.

Notes and the playlist from that evening in April 2006:

Toots opens by saying, "I got the jazz virus during the German occupation. I got infected." [He was born in 1922 and would have been 19. His family fled to France, then moved back home when the Nazis occupied that country.]

(1) "Summertime." A song I've heard a thousand times but never like this.

(2) Steve Swallow's "Falling Grace." Optimistic and wise.

(3) "Autumn Leaves." Toots says, "When a musician doesn't know what to play, he certainly will play 'Autumn Leaves'."

(4) "Tender is the Night," a Jimmy Van Heusen theme. Lush and nostalgic. Kenny Werner is playing lots of electronic keyboards tonight, with sustained chords and reverb.

This is jazz that makes you want to kiss the person you're with, not out of desire or need but out of generosity. After this tune, Toots gives the thumbs-up to Kenny.

(5) Herbie Hancock's "Dolphin Dance." Toots tells us he hired Herbie before he [Herbie] went with Miles, 43 years ago; he was recently Herbie's guest of honor at Carnegie Hall.

(6) "No More Blues." Sometimes music is the one thing you can count on to deliver no more blues.

(7) Jobim's "Wave." Toots says, "There is more than osmosis between Brazil's music and the jazz evolution." He names some of the people he has played with over the years, then says, "And now I'm practically married to Kenny Werner." The evident affection between them is part of what makes their performances remarkable and memorable.

(8) Bill Evans' "Time Remembered." Music so beautiful I want to weep. Kenny plays a lovely solo; Toots puts his hand on his heart and smiles.

Finally:

(9) Irving Berlin's "God Bless America" mixed with something by Nasciemento. Toots became a naturalized American citizen in 1957, and he's proud of it. "I came for the music and got to play with my idols," he says. And now it's the other way around.



Coda

I wondered how Toots came by his nickname. I found the answer in an interview he gave to Les Tomkins in 1978:

"It happened way back in Belgium, in 1946. We had a little amateur band, called Le Jazz Hot, and I was the up-and-coming fellow playing the guitar in Belgium. You know, I was playing like Django Rheinhardt, Charlie Christian—a combination of whatever was played then; it was just before the advent of bebop, I would say. But my name, Jean Thielemans—that doesn’t swing at all. Names on the scene at that time were Toots Mondello, who was with Benny Goodman, and the arranger Toots Camarata; so they said: 'That’s it—Toots.' I said: 'Okay, why not?'— it started like that, and it stuck. It’s been a lucky label, I guess, through the years."