MUSIC REVIEWS : Marathon Events Overshadow the Performances : Jazz: Socializing, audio problems at Playboy Festival make it difficult for audience to connect with energetic, entertaining artists.

The opening performance of the 1993 Playboy Jazz Festival at the Hollywood Bowl was blessed with a beautiful day--plenty of sunshine and an occasional cool breeze. Weather, of course, is vital to an event that often seems more focused on picnicking and partying than upon experiencing music and imagination. And this year was no exception.

For most of the afternoon hours Saturday, the festival contributed to the free-floating social atmosphere by presenting a program of groups that, initially at least, never quite insisted that the audience sit up and take notice. Further compounding the difficulties of connecting with the music was the audio engineering--again, as in last year’s program, ranging from inadequate to inept.

Ironically, the opening Mark Inouye/Sam Karam Quintet, winners of the first Sony ES Fellowship Awards, was one of the day’s most energetic, straight-ahead mainstream jazz groups. Given more time, they might have kicked the festival into high-gear quickly. But they were limited to a 15-minute set--a pity.

The Washington Preparatory High School Jazz Ensemble--21 nervous but game kids--played a collection of intricate arrangements with the kind of poise and style that provide hope for the future of jazz.

The Ray Brown Trio (with Benny Green and Jeff Hamilton) replaced the initially scheduled but ailing Horace Silver. After one or two pleasant, if bland, numbers they were joined by Milt Jackson, who brought the group to life with a typically hard-swinging romp through “Bag’s Groove.”

But the initial stirrings of real energy arrived with the charismatic Dorothy Donegan. Capable of great things, depending upon her mood of the moment, Donegan elected for the most part to stress her eclectic entertainment skills. Every work, from “Caravan” to “Gee, Baby Ain’t I Good to You,” was an adventure, with bits and pieces of Beethoven, Gershwin, folk song, boogie woogie and stride piano tumbling across the keyboard.

The appearance of the L.A. Sax Giants--Buddy Colette, Bob Cooper, Teddy Edwards, Plas Johnson and Harold Land--unfortunately promised more than it delivered. Although a few pieces had been arranged for the players to work as an ensemble, the set was largely devoted to individual showcase numbers. Edward’s muscular tone and Land’s articulate rhythms were standouts, but more interplay and challenge between the players would surely have produced better improvising.

The Rippingtons (featuring Russ Freeman) generated far louder decibels and far greater crowd reaction. If the music sounded as prepackaged as a TV dinner, it didn’t bother the audience, which after hours of socializing seemed eager to respond to the group’s infectious funk rhythms.

The GRP All-Star Big Band made the first significant peak in the festival’s creativity index. Playing brilliantly, with colorful arrangements, and world-class soloing from Arturo Sandoval, Bob Mintzer, Bob Berg, Dave Grusin and John Patitucci (among others), the band has moved beyond its novelty all-star qualities and become a superb unit, with an attractive and unique sound of its own. Sadly, the better part of that sound was lost in an atrocious audio mix, which continuously missed soloists, eliminated sections and intruded on the musicians’ efforts to establish their own timbral balances.

The creativity index went off the chart with the arrival of the Wynton Marsalis Septet. Marsalis has quietly developed the performances of this remarkable ensemble into a mini-histories of jazz. Their too-short set touched on everything from New Orleans to Duke Ellington, bebop and ragtime. And it did so without patronizing past styles, but by disclosing the still-vibrant powers they possess. Interestingly, although Marsalis’ music was the most difficult and thorny of the festival, it provoked powerful audience responses, from mass hanky-waving to strutting dance lines.

The Ray Anthony Orchestra--a congregation of experienced L.A. professionals--supplied a well-played survey of swing music leading into a highly charged set by Mel Torme. Sounding a bit hoarse, Torme nonetheless was in fine form, especially in his scat improvisations. Unlike many singers who attempt similar improvising, Torme works the harmonies like an instrumentalist, constantly seeking out the most colorful chordal extensions.

Blues great Buddy Guy closed the show with a passionate display of his atmospheric vocalizing and inimitable guitar playing.

Attendance at the sold-out event was 17,979.