A Bowl of Mishmash at the Playboy Festival

When it comes to Playboy jazz festivals, there’s diversity and there’s goulash. Unlike Saturday’s well-paced program, Sunday’s offering at the Hollywood Bowl tossed a bunch of differing ingredients into a pot in the hope that they would blend into a complete musical feast. For the most part, they didn’t.

The uncertainties surfaced early with the arrival of the Chris Botti Ensemble. A gifted young trumpeter with an exquisite sound, Botti has been wandering far too long in the lotus land of smooth jazz. Although he possesses all the communicative skills of that genre (at one point he strolled into the audience, a la Kenny G, to serenade one of his listeners), his playing is well grounded in fundamental jazz, and it would be interesting to hear how he would handle a more challenging program of music.

Unfortunately, Botti (whose physical and musical attributes suggest a Chet Baker-like potential--without Baker’s darker qualities) was placed near the beginning of the day’s festivities, directly after an appearance by the Music Center’s Spotlight Awards ensemble of high school musicians. Presenting Botti, an emerging talent, in a segment that preceded the arrival of more than half the audience was a strategic mistake. At the very least, he should have been scheduled after the appearance by the florid rhythmic gymnastics of the Gypsy ensemble Les Yeux Noirs.

Aside from Botti, the Sunday program included only three or four other sparkling highlights. The first was the appearance of Alex Acuna, Justo Almario and Tolu.

Improving with every outing, this superb locally based ensemble is ready to step into the national spotlight. Their set was a convincing display of everything that is right about Latin jazz, with drummer Acuna linking an array of rhythms in completely seamless fashion and saxophonist Almario adding envelope-stretching improvisations to the group’s simmering musical mix. Listening to one impressive Tolu number after another, one could only wonder how long it will take a major record label to sign this superb ensemble.

The Count Basie Orchestra, conducted by Grover Mitchell, can always be counted on to enliven any program, and Sunday’s was no exception.

Although the set started badly, with the audio engineers struggling to figure out the differences between sound reproduction for big band jazz and rock music, matters eventually came into focus. When they did, the orchestra, relying mainly upon its familiar catalog of hard-grooving hits, took the place by storm.

With muscular tenor sax playing from the diminutive Kenny Ling and some deliciously show-off drumming from Butch Miles leading the way, the Basie outfit certified the vitality and inventiveness still present in the big jazz band format.

Blues singer Keb’ Mo’ isn’t really a jazz artist but--like Etta James on Saturday’s program--he is thoroughly immersed in the rich currents of the blues music that has nourished jazz from its very beginnings. It was understandable that his life-affirming offerings delivered in his rich, darkly growling voice--would have the crowd on their feet, in the aisles, happily waving their handkerchiefs and napkins. And when he was joined by the Southland’s own blues star, Barbara Morrison, an already elevated program of music rose to an even higher level of musical exhilaration.

The segment that was clearly designed as the pure jazz focal point of the day, Directions in Music, featuring Herbie Hancock, Michael Brecker and Roy Hargrove, did indeed offer some world-class contemporary jazz.

Hargrove’s trumpet playing seems to be gaining more fluency and adventurousness as he matures, and Brecker’s tenor saxophone mastery was convincingly displayed in a virtuosic, completely solo rendering of John Coltrane’s “Naima.” Hancock, bassist George Mraz and drummer Willie Jones III--from differing generations and different parts of the world--offered empathetically synchronized musical support.

Unfortunately, the balance of the day’s events failed to approach a similar level of achievement.

What in the world, for example, was Bill Cosby doing with his carefully assembled all-star Cos of Good Music VII ensemble? Wandering the stage, pointing to musicians, posturing, devoting a huge portion of his set to a confused rendering of “Bo Diddley,” Cosby largely wasted the presence of such fine artists as Ernie Andrews, Monty Alexander, Craig Handy and Ernie Watts.

Patti Austin’s tribute to Ella Fitzgerald, performed with the Basie ensemble, was notable primarily for her remarkable musicality. In case anyone doubted it, she thoroughly proved that she can handle the most difficult jazz assignments. But it would be far more interesting to hear a program that tapped into her own imaginative roots, rather than simulating the work of one of jazz’s legendary artists.

Winding up the weekend with a funk-driven whimper rather than a creative bang, the Lee Ritenour ensemble, followed by Karl Denson’s Tiny Universe, primarily seemed to offer getaway accompaniment for the many listeners making an early move toward the parking lots.