Penland Quintet, Daaood Excel in Fest

L.A. Jazz ’99 at USC continued on Wednesday with another full day of rewarding jazz events. And, once again, the size of the attendance failed to reflect the quality of the music. The evening’s program, for example, with the Ralph Penland Polygon Quintet opening for Kamau Daaood and his Army of Healers, was filled with high-quality, compelling music. Yet Bovard Auditorium had rows of empty seats.

Penland, a much-in-demand drummer who has gradually crafted his own Polygon Quintet into a briskly efficient musical organization, was not at all deterred by the small crowd. His original pieces, many of which seemed to flow from the sounds of his own percussion, found a surprising compatibility between rhythm and melody. And, although the murky sound system tended to blur much of the playing, his associates--Charles Moore, trumpet; Jerry Pinter, tenor saxophone; Greg Kurston, piano; and Robert Hurst, bass--offered brief but effective soloing in the showcase settings Penland provided for each of them.

Daaood once again, as he so often has done in the past, made a convincing case for the alliance of poetry and jazz. The sound of his voice, the rhythm of his words, the force of his messages and the sheer charisma of his presence all resonated with the spontaneous improvisational spirit and the layered emotions intrinsic to the most honest forms of jazz expression. From a stirring incantatory opening, to a dark jazz vision in “Deep River,” to an inspiring paean to Horace Tapscott, Daaood was superb, his performance filled with the life and spirit of words and music.

He was immensely aided by the all-star performers of the Army of Healers, with vocalist Dwight Tribble particularly impressive. In one especially passionate solo, Tribble built his choruses to a fever pitch, a kind of jazz parallel to Sufi qawwali singing. Other numbers allowed the ensemble--which also included Michael Sessions, saxophones; Trevor Ware, bass; Nate Morgan, piano; Fritz Wise, drums; and Derf Recklaw, flutes and percussion--to stretch into a solid, mainstream-oriented style redolent with the stormy textures and the urgent rhythms of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers.

Given these kinds of performances, why wasn’t attendance any better? It’s hard to say. But USC certainly could have done a better job of marketing and promotion--at the very least comparable to what UCLA does with its arts programs. L.A. Jazz ’99 would have been a bargain as a ticketed festival. As a free event, it should have been jammed with listeners.