JAZZ REVIEW : Bentyne Right at Home on Any Musical Range

A coyly posed figure of Betty Boop stood on the piano as Cheryl Bentyne sang at Maxwell’s on Friday. Was Bentyne, working a rare date outside the Manhattan Transfer, inviting comparisons?

If so, Ms. Boop came out on the short end. Though both women have reputations of advancing a kittenish sexuality when they perform, the similarities end there. As a vocalist, Boop always worked a rather narrow range in thin, school-girlish tones. Bentyne, on the other hand, utilizes a much more expansive range that’s especially rewarding in the lower registers.

Add Bentyne’s ability to sound good singing bop, ballads and torch tunes, and you’ve got a hands-down winner. But then, not many vocalists can match Bentyne’s skills or generate the kind of lively presence she establishes on the bandstand.

Backed by a trio led by her husband--pianist and composer Corey Allen--Bentyne presented a number of personas during her first set, all with success.

She could be cool and moody as she was on “Les Modernes,” the tune Mark Isham wrote for Alan Rudolph’s film, “The Moderns.” Or she could be hip and vivacious as she was running through Annie Ross’ lyric to Art Farmer’s “Farmer’s Market.” She belted the blues on “Somedays It’s Monday,” finishing off with a high kick that, if improperly aimed, could have taken out the front row of seats.

Her best display of character was on Bill Barnes’ “Something Cool,” the title tune from her year-old solo recording. Bentyne gave this tale of lush life an intimate, breathy delivery, her voice colored with a touch of embarrassment, all appropriate to the lyric’s barroom small-talk. As she sang, you could almost see the gentleman on the neighboring stool in the scene the song paints.

A pair of Thelonious Monk tunes, “Still We Dream” and “I Mean You” gave the singer a chance to show her willingness to handle quirky material, a ploy that succeeded because of her involving ways with words.

She followed her late entry into a line of “I Mean You” with an ALF-like “Ha!” that turned the mistake into a rhythmic accent. “Average repertoire is not our bag,” she declared at the medley’s end.

Bentyne received fine accompaniment from Allen, bassist John Leftwich and drummer Kurt Wortman. Allen added celestial synthesizer effects to his acoustic sounds on “Invitation” before taking a smart improvisation that relied more on rich chordal play than involved, right-hand lines. He added bell-like tones to “Monk’s Dream” while taking a melodic, very un-Monk-like solo.

Leftwich worked up the heat on “Fever” with sliding tones and double-stops backed by Wortman’s sizzling brushes before Bentyne moved into the sultry lyric.

The tune seemed to get inside of her as she stooped, wiggled, and pushed at her hair. At one point, as she crouched to the floor, the figure of Betty Boop seeming to look over her shoulder. Needless to say, Boop was smiling with recognition.

The evening’s only drawback was the distraction caused by a scattering of loud patrons in the audience and the constant clatter of activity back at the bar, which sometimes threatened to obscure the quieter ballads.

Maxwell’s management needs to remind such customers that most people are there to listen, and to instruct its employees to work as unobtrusively as they can. If not, they’ll have a hard time getting musicians of Bentyne’s stature to return to the room.

Bentyne was scheduled to conclude her three-day Maxwell’s engagement on Sunday.