San Francisco Jazz Festival Taps Into Wide Range of Talent

Diversity may be the best single definition of the San Francisco Jazz Festival. Like the city that is its host, the nearly two-week-long event hews to the premise that it can embrace every imaginable style, manner and attitude.

The first week’s programming, for example, opened with a performance by two veteran jazz vocal artists, Abbey Lincoln and Jimmy Smith, moved on to a film tribute to Louis Armstrong and a program featuring the Jazz Mandolin Project and Bay Area guitarist Will Bernard. Friday’s schedule further underscored the festival’s range, with Lou Rawls and Etta James offering lavish servings of soul and blues at the Masonic Auditorium.

Across town, an entirely different event, appropriately titled “Living Legends: Excursions on the Edge,” steered the proceedings into a more distant orbit. Alto saxophonist Lee Konitz has been a musical adventurer for most of his long and productive career. And he opened the program with a solo rendering of “The Song Is You” that called upon all his remarkable improvisational skills, playing with the warm and intimate tone that has become his hallmark.

When he was joined by pianist Paul Bley, however, the music became more tentative, due in part to an unexpected lack of synchronization in their styles. More solo Konitz would have made for a more appealing set.

Trio 3 (with saxophonist Oliver Lake, bassist Reggie Workman and drummer Andrew Cyrille) followed with a set that harked back to ‘60s avant-garde. Occasionally blossoming with bursts of musical appeal--especially from Lake and Workman--the program ultimately seemed too inner-focused to create much empathetic response.

One of the most potentially engaging performances--by Jane Bunnett and the Spirits of Havana--was nearly washed out when an intermittent rain storm blew across Ghirardelli Square. But a determined crowd decided that the brightly colorful, tropical sounds were a worthwhile antidote for the soggy atmosphere, and were rewarded with a heated performance, especially from Bunnett.

Kicking off the set with an extended soprano saxophone solo, she set the pace for her musicians with a marvelously articulate improvisation, blending quick runs, imaginative melodic sequences and blues-tinged wails into a scene-setting dash into the Afro-Cuban jazz that is the meat and potatoes of the Spirits.

At almost the same moment, San Francisco singer Paula West was performing in Lincoln Park, presenting her version of the “Art of the Song.”

Saturday night’s events once again offered programming revealing the polar opposites that make the festival so appealing. In the Herbst Theater, pianist Cecil Taylor; at the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium, Celia Cruz and Oscar D’Leon.

Taylor’s solo piano offering was a characteristic, nonstop stream of spontaneous sounds, rhythms and textures. He used (as he always has) the instrument as a sheer, sound-producing device, never varying in his pursuit of undisguised emotional intensity.

Without a frame of reference, wide-open improvising can lapse into its own repetitive patterns, and Taylor’s sometimes did. But there was no denying his determination to follow the guidance of his inner muse (despite, as one observer suggested, “Do you think he plays ‘Body and Soul’ and “ ‘Round Midnight’ for himself when nobody’s around?”).

The scene at Civic Auditorium was vastly different--an enormous crowd filling the huge dance floor, utterly thrilled with every number from D’Leon and his compelling ensemble. The music managed to simultaneously entertain the mind, spirit and body, allowing one to admire the superb horn section and surging rhythm, while responding with legs and feet to their irresistibly visceral drive.

D’Leon’s nonstop energy, his soaring, high voice, his sense of humor and sheer physicality confirmed why he is one of Latin music’s great entertainers.

Cruz, one of salsa’s legendary divas, immediately confirmed her reputation with a visual display that matched her orange wig with a bright orange outfit, and a series of songs--including many of her hits--delivered in her trademark, throaty contralto. No wonder the crowd couldn’t decide whether to watch, dance or sing along. Appropriately, they usually managed to do all three.