JAZZ REVIEW : A Tribute to Ella ... From the Heart

Valentine’s Day came two days early for Ella Fitzgerald. Monday evening at Avery Fisher Hall, a galaxy of stars trooped across the stage to pay homage to her in “Hearts for Ella,” a benefit for the American Heart Assn.

Any event overloaded with talent runs the risk of sacrificing quality for quantity, but under the guidance of producer Edith Kiggen, the fast-paced tribute moved smoothly, with only a few minor glitches.

Mercifully, there were no windy, unctuous speeches. From the opening statement by Mayor David Dinkins to Ella’s own brief, modest words 2 1/2 hours later, her concert alternated between reminiscences and performances mostly related to people, places and events in the honoree’s 55-year career.

The music began with Ella’s good friend and ex-husband, bassist Ray Brown, playing her 1938 hit, “A-Tisket A-Tasket,” while Lena Horne, who co-hosted with Itzhak Perlman, read a brief and eloquent poem dedicated to Ella, written by Oscar Peterson.

Benny Carter, who discovered Ella in 1935 at an Apollo Theatre amateur night, led an amazing 18-piece on-stage house band that consisted of many men who are stars in their own right. Never in our lifetime are we likely to see again an ensemble in which Stan Getz, Phil Woods, David Sanborn, Louie Bellson, Jimmy Heath, Herb Ellis, Clark Terry, Jon Faddis and Joe Wilder are humble sidemen. The sound, overloud on the opening tune, improved for the leader’s new work, “First Lady,” a typically elegant Carter melody named for the singer,

The taped voice of Duke Ellington, paying his respects to Ella, led to Manhattan Transfer’s “All Heart.” This Ellington-Strayhorn work, from a 1950s suite dedicated to Fitzgerald, was fitted with gracefully tailored words by the Transfer’s Alan Paul and sung by the group.

Of all the specially written pieces, only one fell flat. James Moody, reading from a huge sheet of paper, was saddled with the singing of “Hearts for Ella,” which managed to link bathetic words with a meaningless melody. Clearly uncomfortable, he stumbled through it by making fun of it.

Unlikely teams provided many rewarding moments. The most improbable pairing found Bobby McFerrin singing, scatting and chest-thumping while Itzhak Perlman not only played the melody on “Blue Skies” but actually improvised with a jazz feeling few knew he possessed.

Perlman reappeared in tandem with Oscar Peterson, who soloed exquisitely on “Who Can I Turn To” before joining with the violinist for a legato “Summertime.”

Other pianists who had worked with Ella at various points in her career lent a “This Is Your Life” touch to the festivities. Hank Jones played in the Carter band; Tommy Flanagan, her musical director for a decade, revived her old hit “Mr. Paganini,” and George Shearing, who sat in with her on 52nd Street in 1948, backed Joe Williams’ vocal on Benny Carter’s “Blues in My Heart.”

Alumni of drummer Chick Webb’s band, with whom Fitzgerald got her start at 17, were scattered throughout the show. Beverly Peer, Webb’s bassist, replaced Ray Brown during a generally flat tap-dance episode by the Copasetics.

Also on hand were clarinetist Eddie Barefield and trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie, who played in the Webb band when Ella took it over after the drummer’s death in 1939. Gillespie was in a restrained mood, playing and singing his elegiac ballad, “I Waited for You.”

An unannounced addition was Quincy Jones, who after a few warm words of respect for the first lady, conducted Carter’s orchestra in his own “Stockholm Sweetenin’, “ reminding us of his long-standing and valuable ties to jazz. A small combo number gave James Moody’s flute and Slide Hampton’s trombone a chance to share honors with Getz, Woods and trumpeter Red Rodney.

Since Ella’s first idol was Connee Boswell, it was good, appropriate fun to bring together Janis Siegal, Cheryl Bentyne and Melissa Manchester for a high-camp rendition of two old Boswell Sisters songs, taken directly off the 1931 recordings. But revivalism is a risky weapon; it cut down Cab Calloway, that handsome, well tailored octogenarian, when he totally blew the lyrics on “A-Tisket,” then dueted with Manchester on “Jumpin’ Jive.” This song, spuriously hip in 1940, has since had 50 years to go further down nostalgia hill.

After Carter’s last number (a transcription for the orchestra of Ella’s recorded scat-libs on “Lady Be Good”), the honored guest herself, who had been sitting in the audience, was led on stage by Joe Williams, accompanied by an ovation that verged on levitation. Spontaneously, she broke into a “Honeysuckle Rose” that sustained the uproar, then traded scat riffs with Williams and Clark Terry.

An Ella Fitzgerald Research Fellowship, we were then told, is being launched by the American Heart Assn. The announcement was a fitting finale to a once-in-a-lifetime evening that was indeed, in every sense, all heart.