An Original Who Really Walks the Walk

Dianne Reeves, who can sing in just about any style she chooses to try, has lately been insisting that jazz is now at the heart of her musical goals. And on Saturday night at the Founders Club in the Orange County Performing Arts Center, she walked the walk with a performance filled with the kind of vocal artistry and imagination that have been in short supply since Joe Williams and Mel Torme departed the jazz scene last year.

The most salient aspect of her set was the sense of originality she brought to every aspect of her music.

Did Reeves, like most jazz vocalists, scat sing? Yes, sometimes, but unlike most jazz vocalists, she did it in her own compelling style, and not as an inadequate imitation of Ella Fitzgerald.

Did she apply her rich-timbered voice to material from the Great American Songbook? Occasionally, and with great musical insight, when she sang “Yesterdays” and a stunning rendering (accompanied only by Reginald Veal’s bass) of “Mood Indigo,” a number that is quickly becoming one of her signature tunes.

But she also explored territory rarely ventured into by jazz artists, with lovely interpretations of the Cat Stevens-associated “Morning Has Broken” and Leonard Cohen’s “Suzanne.” On the latter, her singing was supported by a stunning arrangement filled with sweeping climaxes contrasted by small, astonishingly intimate passages.

Saluting the holiday season, Reeves transformed “The Little Drummer Boy” into a new work, filled with surging African rhythms from drummer Munyungo Jackson. And she added a poignant, improvised, musical storytelling description of her youthful relationship with her grandmother. What might, in less sensitive hands, have seemed maudlin, emerged as a lovely memory, framed in subtle jazz rhythms. She followed with an equally gripping narrative, a kind of gospel-jazz affirmation of life and love.

Talented as she is, however, Reeves couldn’t have been as effective as she was without musical backing that far exceeded the definition of accompaniment. Keyboardist Otmaro Ruiz provided an astounding array of textures, from horn-like synthesizer lines and orchestral textures to quirky backup vocals and straight-ahead acoustic piano. Veal’s bass was rock solid on both acoustic and electric instruments, and Jackson and drummer Rocky Bryan drove the rhythm forward in tandem and individually (with Jackson offering showcase percussion soloing).

It was, in short, a splendid evening of jazz, and a defining example of what jazz singing will look like in the new millennium.