[78-L] Benny's birthday

[David Weiner]

So how come there was nothing in the news about Benny Goodman's 100th
birthday? You'd think there would be celebrations at Lincoln Center, in Down
Beat, and elsewhere (or was there?). Other than someone's brief mention on
this list, I've seen nothing. It's a durn shame.

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Au contraire, Cary - there was a big series of concerts and lectures last
weekend in NY at the Time Warner Center - here's a review of one of them: 

Homage to a Carnegie Hall Concert That Put the Kingdom of Swing on the Map
By NATE CHINEN

Among the more ebullient moments in Jazz at Lincoln Center’s centennial
tribute to Benny Goodman at the Rose Theater on Thursday night, one stood
out decisively. It came at the start of the second half and featured not one
but four clarinetists — Ken Peplowski, Ted Nash, Victor Goines and the
evening’s musical director, Bob Wilber — playing tightly voiced enlargements
of Goodman’s frolicsome phrasing.

The effect of this harmonization was crisp and sprightly, even if the device
itself skirted jazz-repertory cliché. And when it was time for a round robin
of solos, each musician offered his take on a signature style.

They weren’t the only ones. In the first half the venerable Buddy DeFranco
attested to the far-reaching influence of Goodman’s instrumental voice.

“His impact was so strong,” Mr. DeFranco said, adding that he and most other
jazz clarinetists owed an obvious debt. Then came a musical illustration, in
the form of a Goodmanesque sextet romp through “I Surrender, Dear” and
“After You’ve Gone.” Mr. DeFranco, 86, played expressively, acknowledging
the nature of the role while maintaining his own more boppish identity.

But Goodman’s clarinet playing formed only part of the picture in a program
equally devoted to the legacy of his big band. And here the concert showed
its clear strengths, as the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra brought power
and conviction to some of the swing era’s most durable arrangements. The
unforced precision among the saxophone and brass sections was well met by
the swinging ease of the rhythm section. A few designated soloists — notably
the trumpeters Marcus Printup and Sean Jones, both charismatic in their
upper registers — delivered compact, historically appropriate flashes of
bravado.

The concert had been billed partly as a salute to Goodman’s historic 1938
concert at Carnegie Hall, a debut for jazz as well as for his band. For
unstated reasons, that point of reference surfaced only glancingly. The
orchestra closed the first half with “Sing, Sing, Sing,” and it was a
predictable home run, especially as a feature for the drummer Ali Jackson,
who summoned Gene Krupa’s tom-tom rumble without resorting to camp. But
there was no piano solo, which had been a serendipitous highlight of the
Carnegie version. And it made little sense that the tune came so early in
the show, and not as the finale. (The actual finale, “Oh, Baby,” could
hardly compete.)

Mr. Wilber, who is 81 and once led a more faithful re-creation of the
Carnegie concert, on the occasion of its 50th anniversary, faced a few other
challenges as producer. One of them might have been generational. When he
pared down to a combo, there were mild issues with the vibraphonist Warren
Wolf (standing in for Lionel Hampton) and the pianist Dan Nimmer (ditto for
Teddy Wilson), who seemed constrained and perhaps ill at ease.

More unfortunate was Mr. Wilber’s decision to feature his wife, Joanne
Horton, in any vocal capacity beyond that of a commentator. Despite
considerable experience as a jazz singer, Ms. Horton wasn’t up to the task:
each of her appearances fell emphatically flat.

Thankfully those appearances were few and far between, outweighed by
stronger fare like “Clarinet à la King,” a full-dress number featuring Mr.
Peplowski. There, with the band firing on all cylinders, the appeal of
Goodman’s music felt alive and close at hand.

Performances continue through Saturday at Frederick P. Rose Hall, Jazz at
Lincoln Center, 60th Street and Broadway; (212) 721-6500, jalc.org.