Jazz Reviews : Vaughan Displays Her Gifts at the Greek Theater

Sarah Vaughan has been plying her profession for 45 years, and she will keep on doing it until she gets it wrong--then she will retire. That eventuality seemed more remote than ever Friday at the Greek Theater.

Levitated by the horns of the Count Basie Orchestra along with her own trio (George Gaffney, piano; Andy Simpkins, bass; and Harold Jones, drums), Vaughan instantly let it be known that all her gifts are firmly in place: the limitless range, the almost cavernous sound on her low tones, the ability to twist a melody (but without distorting it) according to the dictates of her musicianly ear.

Her sense of humor pervaded the show on several levels, principally in the use of wordless vocals on several numbers--a clever bop riff on “Sweet Georgia Brown,” a scat line sung in unison with the brass section on “Just Friends,” a shoo-be-doo investigation of “Autumn Leaves.”

Wordlessness, however, does not necessarily connote comedy; she still sings Billy Strayhorn’s sumptuous “Chelsea Bridge” as a tenderly evocative mood piece. But the best ballads came equipped with lyrics: the sinuous “So Many Stars” as well as “Photograph,” both from one of her Brazilian albums. On “Since You Went Away” the words escaped her, but as so often happens, she turned it into a running gag, singing about the lapse.

Finally there was the encore that has become her staple: As we here on the ground observed her in midair, she called for the clowns.

The support of the band, with solos by trumpeter Bob Ojeda and others, provided a potent reminder that this kind of setting inspires Vaughan to the heights of which she is still capable.

The orchestra’s opening set, conducted by tenor saxophonist Frank Foster, was short on surprises but long on ensemble skill and solo inspiration. The rhythm section has been through an overhaul. There are two returnees: Greg Field on drums and Cleveland Eaton on bass, as well as a new pianist, Ace Carter, whose long solo on “Good Times Blues” achieved a measure of the old Basie spirit. Paul Weeden’s rhythm guitar compensates well for the loss of the late Freddie Green.

As usual, Carmen Bradford acquitted herself credibly in three songs, though she needs stronger material. Sonny Cohn on trumpet in “Shiny Stockings” and “Li’l Darlin’,” Danny House on alto sax, and the three tenors (Foster, Kenny Hing, Eric Dixon) in the closing “Jumpin’ at the Woodside” all were up to the standards one expects of this band.

The days of such all-time originals as Lester Young and Sweets Edison are far behind us, yet it is enough that the Basie phenomenon has survived half a century, even outlived its leader, successfully enough to remain one of the more compelling forces on the dwindling big-band scene.