O.C. REVIEW : Pacific Festival Maps a Wider Jazz Territory

The opening day of the first Pacific Jazz Festival showed how broadly the term “jazz” can now be applied. Little that would be considered mainstream or straight-ahead jazz was heard, but there were plenty of funk, rock and world-beat sounds, and the accompanying emphasis on percussion and electronics. As Miles Davis once said, “Call it anything.”

On Saturday, the festival (which concluded Sunday) at the Pacific Amphitheatre in Costa Mesa suffered from the usual sonic problems that come with setting up more than a half-dozen bands on the same stage, each requiring enough electricity to light San Diego. Sound levels were occasionally painful and distortion frequent.

Saxophonist Richard Elliot, who likes to play down on one knee as if he were proposing marriage, set the tone early, putting some raunch to “When a Man Loves a Woman,” filling his set with back-beat, electronic effects and theatrics. Volume, especially early on, was so strong that it distorted bass lines and served to bury keyboardist Steve Bach.

Pianist Kim Pensyl, who accompanied his acoustic set with taped synth rhythms and strings, provided some needed sonic respite. A musician with all the good grooming of Harry Connick Jr., Pensyl’s attack recalled McCoy Tyner at times and he spiced a tune called “Are You Ready” with funky block chords.

Ethnic sound prevailed in the late afternoon. Hugh Masekela’s octet started things off and proved the most moving. Backed by tight, strong drumming and percussion play (Damon Duewhite and Francis Fuster, respectively), Masekela’s aggressive fluegelhorn work, though initially lost in the mix, got the less-than-capacity crowd jumping. The leader’s cowbell introduction to “Grazing in the Grass” brought cheers before the familiar melody even sounded. The group provided the day’s most moving moments with “Stimala,” a tune whose rhythms were meant to recall the trains carrying conscripted workers to South Africa’s mines. Masekela, who alternated on trumpet during the set, soloed at full steam on the minor-key lament before providing a vocal that was thick with both melancholy and pride.

The high emotion of Masekela’s set contrasted with the cool intellectual approach of Shadowfax. A number of ethnic influences ran through their reserved pieces, which occasionally were broken up by G.E. Stinson’s flaming guitar solos. But solo space was in short supply, the group preferring to vary its pleasant figures with dynamics and percussive play. By the end of the set their numbers were all sounding alike.

Naturally, percussion was at the forefront of timbale player Pete Escovedo’s set. With sons Peter Michal and Juan adding drums and other percussion to the heady mix, the 11-piece band powered its way through Wayne Wallace’s “Gingerbread Girl” and Escovedo’s own “Zina Zamba,” a piece named after one of his less famous offspring. Though it plays Latin jazz, the group has a truly international flavor, thanks to the inclusion of a Dutch bassist, a Chinese trumpeter and a Japanese guitarist. Dancing in the aisles became commonplace.

The crowd’s favorite seemed to be Hiroshima, a group that blends Japanese koto and barrel-sized festival drums with more traditional jazz-fusion instrumentation. New vocalist Machun showed range and a tone that ran from honey-sweet to street-tough. She also scored points with her guitar playing. The day’s only encore featured Johnny Mori whirling between his taiko drums, producing a deep, reverberating rumble that he punctuated with rim clacks.

The evening closed with sets from two popular guitarists and their groups. Lee Ritenour’s playful way with a number of guitars was underpinned by the formidable bass of Anthony Jackson. Ritenour, whose playing was sometimes lost behind depth-charge strong reverb, showed a nimble if unimaginative way with a solo. Vocalist Phil Perry was brought out to a dead mike, but overpowered the poor acoustics on a scale-stretching rendition of “Mr. Briefcase,” on which he showed stylistic inventiveness and a dynamic falsetto.

The Rippingtons closed with an inexplicable lack of volume that brought complaints both from the stage and the audience. Fronted by smooth-picking guitarist Russ Freeman and explosive saxophonist Brandon Fields (who at times was almost inaudible) the group played tight, emphatic numbers that built to strong climaxes. It is ironic that the interplay of this most empathic of fusion groups was lost to poor amplification, but that’s the way it is with festivals. One gets a lot for the dollar even if it’s not all that’s expected.

Sunday’s lineup was scheduled to include Etta James, the Robert Cray Band, the Louie Bellson Big Band, David Benoit, Mongo Santamaria, Free Flight, Billy Mitchell and Bennie Wallace with John Patitucci.