Chick Corea Rides to the Season’s Rescue

It hasn’t exactly been a smashing season for jazz at the Hollywood Bowl this summer. More than half of the scheduled events could only marginally have been described as jazz programs.

Fortunately, the best was saved for last. Wednesday night’s concert, “Chick Corea and Friends,” was a fine example of the sort of jazz presentation that should have filled this year’s schedule. (On a hopeful note, it offered singer Dianne Reeves, the new creative chair for jazz of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, with a distinct model for the sort of jazz programming that the Bowl so badly needs.)

The theme of the show was basic and to the point: A great musical artist (Corea) recapitulates some of the high points of his career through restorations of key musical high points, performed by many of the players who participated in the originals. In Corea’s case, the players were world-class artists in their own right. Any program that includes saxophonists Michael Brecker and Eric Marienthal, bassists Eddie Gomez and John Patitucci, vibist Gary Burton, drummers Steve Gadd, Dave Weckl and Airto Moreira, and singer Flora Purim has to be considered a special event.

Enhancing the evening, Corea was in rare form, musically and personally. Obviously enjoying every moment, he balanced his consistently superb playing with gregarious comments between numbers, transforming the Bowl’s huge stage into a kind of living-room performance for a large crowd of friends.

Each of the segments touched on a particular aspect of Corea’s skills. The opening duo set with Burton was a marvelous excursion, blending craft, imagination and intellectualism. The intimate musical connections between the pair were startlingly symbiotic, given the fact that they haven’t played together consistently for years. But their combined sense of invention, in numbers such as “Crystal Silence” and “Senor Mouse,” was resolute, the impressive product of two mature masters at work.

The high point of the evening, however, was the second segment, in which Corea was joined by Brecker, Gomez and Gadd. Impressive throughout the set, they peaked on Corea’s “Sicily,” which showcased a brilliant drum solo by Gadd--a player whose sensitive musicality has consistently served as a role model for good drumming.

Brecker added another star to a series of fine recent performances in the Southland, fully shaking off his Coltrane references, firmly establishing himself as one of the important saxophonists of his generation.

By the time the set was concluded--to rousing audience cheers--it was obvious that this particular quartet is one that Corea should seriously consider reassembling for a tour of its own.

The third and fourth segments featuring Corea’s Elektric Band and a kind of revived Return to Forever offered plenty of sound and fury, but not quite as much sheer musicality as the opening half of the bill. Among the high points: the way Corea extracted blues-drenched passages from a shoulder-slung electronic keyboard; and Moreira’s stirring solo number using only his voice and a pandero (Brazilian tambourine).

By the time the show wrapped with an all-join-in rendering of “Spain,” the only missing elements were a glance at Corea’s talented classical abilities and a taste of his insightful work with standard songs. But that would have taken at least one more evening. Maybe next time.