Jazz Reviews : Friendly Audience at Long Beach Festival

The success of a music festival can depend just as much upon the pleasantness of its environment as it does upon the quality of its performances. Saturday’s opening day program at the first Long Beach Jazz Festival was a case in point.

Like many summer celebrations, the festival used jazz as an umbrella word to encompass a collection of music that ranged from Latin and soul to fusion and funk. Most of the playing, so long as one accepted it for what it was, blended perfectly with the easy ambiance of a warm summer day, a soft ocean breeze and a relaxed and friendly audience.

The scheduled programs began with Latin percussionist Eric Bobo’s tribute to his late father, Willie, as a crowd of 5,000-plus sought out picnic and listening space on the green, behind the Long Beach Convention Center.

A reunion of pianist Les McCann and saxophonist Eddie Harris’ Swiss Movement Band kept the party flow moving with a spectacularly bizarre vocal by Harris on his whimsical “I Need Some Money” and the familiar rhythmic sing-along of McCann’s trademark “Try to Make It Real, Compared to What?”

The festival’s momentum hit a glitch, however, with the arrival of the Rippingtons, who did not have one of their better days. At their best, the Russ Freeman-led group played some solid, well-constructed fusion jazz. More frequently, the players seemed concerned with hyping their new album and indulging in the overly theatrical stage mannerisms of an insecure rock band.

Fortunately, pianist Lonnie Liston Smith, replacing the scheduled--but absent--Freddie Hubbard, got the proceedings back on track quickly. Working with the energetic local trio of snapmaster bassist Leroy Ball, Smith played a set that got the crowd up off their beach blankets into a mass dancing-on-the-grass party.

Tenor saxophonist Kirk Whalum kept the good times rolling with a set of supercharged originals whose body-moving intensity couldn’t quite disguise the thoughtfulness behind his blues-drenched improvisations.

Equally energetic, if a bit less musically provocative, was bassist Stanley Clarke. Much of his program was devoted to the high-speed, exercise-book runs that have dominated his playing since he moved to a higher-pitched instrument. But a provocative reading of Charles Mingus’ “Goodby Porkpie Hat” almost compensated for Clarke’s other transgressions.

Finally, in the headliner position, saxophonist Ronnie Laws brought the show to a rousing climax with a group that featured sister Deborah on vocals and brother Hubert on flute. Laws’ easy-rhythm night music was a kind of all-purpose compendium of the various styles heard at the festival.

In that sense, it provided the perfect conclusion to a program that never allowed too many musical considerations to get in the way of having a good time.