Guitar Lessons in Boulder & Longmont, CO with Joseph Brenna

We were rambling about town most of Friday, so we missed some terrific sets, including Dee Dee Bridgewater’s with Mulgrew Miller and Ira Sullivan (I had a chance to hear Dee Dee on Sunday night, more on that in my report part III). But we returned to Grant Park and the Petrillo Music Shell in time for the Eddie Palmieri Latin Jazz Band’s closing set. Four decades into his career, pianist Palmieri is one of the most celebrated Latin Jazz musicians in the world. He and his band of 3 percussionists, upright bass (electric) tenor sax, trumpet, trombone took the stage by storm. Unfortunately, they were blowing for the rafters, and the solos suffered, devolving shrilly into histrionics and showboating. I thought I was in for a long set. But Palmieri slowed the tempo down in the second song and the band found its pace. The remainder of the set featured a salsa-heavy repertoire with playful, virtuosic, and well-constructed solos by the horns, anchored by the solid percussion, and Palmieri’s rhythmic comping, spiced with a good deal of chromaticism. His piano solos were also adventurous and chromatic, true to the requirements of the form, while stretching out harmonically and melodically.

The sound at the Main Stage was adequate throughout the festival, but left a lot to be desired. There was a great deal of clarity, no small feat in a large outdoor space, especially when mixing acoustic bass, which has a tendency to sound thin in such settings. But the sound lacked warmth and depth. Chalk it up in part to the inevitable effect of running acoustic instruments through a PA. Still, the sound engineers made it worse by consistently mixing solos so far out in front of the bands as to obscure the interplay which is the heart of jazz.

I spent Sunday morning alone at the Art Institute of Chicago, visiting the fantastic exhibit of drawings and collage acquired by Chicago collectors, and the collections of American art. A perfect morning! I was lit up with a surge of vitality and inspiration, enough for a boatload of songs. There’s a way in which visual art wakes my senses that is unlike anything I experience in music, nature, or society.

In mid- morning I slipped out of the museum for a stroll to the Jazz at Jackson stage to hear local pianist Bob Dogan’s earthy solo piano set of chestnuts like “Golden Earrings”, pop tunes including “Here, There, and Everywhere”, and standards such as “September Song” and Ornette Coleman’s “The Blessing”. Dogan was all about harmony and melody, his set was very tame rhythmically. Which made me admire more the way he drew the audience in without any sort of flash or showy tricks. His understated, soulful playing, contrasting starkly with the flow of traffic proceeding down Michigan Avenue behind the stage, cut right to the heart. I looked around at the audience, and saw many people rapt and visibly moved by Dogan, who radiated mastery and humility simultaneously.

More to come about the festival in my next blog post, Chicago Jazz Fest Report part III!