JAZZ REVIEW : Torme’s Skill Shines on Cerritos Center

Friday and Saturday evening, a nightingale sang in Cerritos Center. The sound was mellow, the setting ideal, the nightingale’s name was Mel Torme.

As he remarked at Friday’s show, this new theater in the round is “one of the most beautiful performance centers in the world,” adding luster to his impeccable performance. He dealt skillfully with the 360-degree audience, opening with “Opus One” and bringing a fresh sensibility to “Stardust.”

A heavy proportion of his set relied on seasonal songs. If a few of the snippets in his Christmas medley seemed a tad perfunctory, there was compensation in two new and timely pieces of his own: “Christmas Was Made for Children” (lyrics, music and arrangement by Torme) and “The Christmas Season,” for which Mark Savalle supplied a chart to his words and music.

Inevitably and agreeably, these songs led up to Torme’s biggest hit--you know, the one about the chestnuts and the open fire. From there it was a short step to Torme’s familiar tribute to Benny Goodman, complete with his rapid-fire drum solo on “Sing, Sing, Sing.”

Torme’s backing included a string section, pianist John Corlianni and the horns of the Doc Severinsen Orchestra.

Severinsen’s band, which has worked only sporadically since its “Tonight Show” days, was in fine shape. Most of the familiar faces were still around: Conte Candoli, Snooky Young and Bobby Findley trading trumpet riffs with the maestro, Ross Tompkins still at the keyboard, drummer Ed Shaughnessy killing the crowd and an impressive trombonist, Mike Daigeau.

Tommy Newsom was missing, but in his place was a surprise, Karolyn Kafer, whose alto solo on “Do Nothing ‘Til You Hear From Me” was a sprightly highlight.

Severinsen took the band through a jazz-oriented set, for which he was a centerpiece on everything from “King Porter Stomp” to “One O’Clock Jump.” His smoother side, which could have been displayed through the use of a mute on “Georgia,” was rarely in evidence. Basically he is the Harry James of the 1990s (but playing, and briefly singing, on “I Can’t Get Started,” he became Bunny Berigan brought forward from the 1930s).

Too bad this “last of the big bands” lost its national TV platform. One can only hope the good doctor will make it more frequently visible.