New York Diary: Day 1

Hey, kids! Your friendly neighborhood Jazz Observer is taking a four-day excursion to New York. There’s no better excuse to catch a load of jazz shows, and I’ll be reporting what I hear so stay tuned!

For the first day of the trip, I made a morning pilgrimage to Louis Armstrong’s house, then the heat got to me so I decided to stay within walking distance of my temporary digs near Bleecker St.

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Louis Armstrong House Museum

Louis Armstrong was a rich and famous man in 1943, light years away from the mean poverty that marked his early years in New Orleans. But when his wife Lucille purchased this two story brick-face house in the Corona neighborhood of Queens (not a mansion by any means), Louis reportedly worried that it was too extravagant.

But Louis would live in that house, when he wasn’t on the road, for the next 28 years, until his death in 1971. Today it’s a National Historic Landmark and a unique museum, preserved exactly as it was when the Armstrongs lived there and giving visitors a glimpse into the private life of this most public figure. It’s a fascinating place, curated by an eager and knowledgeable staff. Tours are given hourly, and I was lucky enough to get one all to myself, after ogling some memorabilia in the exhibit room.

The decor is a delightful mishmash of opulence and functionality, treasures and kitsch. Brightly colored wallpapers explode beyond their bounds, spilling onto the ceilings, or even, in some rooms, the window treatments. One bathroom has mirrored walls and gold-plated plumbing, while the kitchen is a marvel of custom made, automotive-themed efficiency.

Art and exotic knickknacks are everywhere (one painted likeness of Louis made by Tony Bennett is simply brilliant). Candid audio recordings are replayed in each room, filling the air with Louis’ wit and larger-than-life persona. Best of all is Satch’s den, which combined work and play with a dignified desk, high-end audio equipment, and an eclectic collection of booze.

The Museum has plans for major expansion over the next two years. But that’s no reason to wait. Anyone with an appreciation of Armstrong owes it to themselves to pay this place a visit.

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7:00 PM – Anne Drummond @ 55 Bar

Anne Drummond is a young flutist with a lot to say. She has a natural sense of swing, the rhythmic drive of a bebopper and a highly appealing tone. She absolutely flew in “Baden,” the opening tune of her early set at the 55 Bar, and later in “Softly as in a Morning Sunrise,” standing on tiptoe as she spun a cyclone of notes, yet always in the pocket, always sounding sure of where she was going.

There are times when it’s better to play less, of course, and on some ballads it sounded like Drummond was deliberately clamping down, fighting the urge to overplay. But she found interesting ways to compensate, adding a tremulous flutter or breaking up long notes into tiny staccato phrases.

Drummond had a strong band on the gig. Klaus Mueller’s keyboard lines dove and climbed in a nonstop roller-coaster ride. Bassist Brandi Disterheft brought firm intensity to every note of her inventive solos, while drummer Mauricio Zeterelli infused the whole with a spirit of fun.

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9:30 PM – Itai Kriss Quartet @ Smalls

This is a night for flutes. Perhaps a hundred yards from the 55 Bar, Israeli flutist Itai Kriss blazed through the first of his two sets at Smalls with a funky, swooping sound and a formidable technique.

Slippery and hyperkinetic on the barn-burner “Sketch for Toki,” Kriss cannonballed down the line and ricocheted off the chords like Flubber. On slower numbers, his forceful tone pierced the air, stabbing straight and far as a searchlight.

Aaron Goldberg was a wild man at the piano. Effusive and joyous, his hands bouncing six Inches off the keyboard, he had a soulmate in bassist Omer Avital. Both men grinned constantly, heads nodding in unison as they fed Kriss’ tricky Latin-tinged grooves. Avital leaned far over his bass, bobbing his mass of curly brown hair as he played hip struts and humorous asides, all to the machine-tooled, ticking rhythms of Eric McPherson.

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11:00 PM – J.D. Allen Trio @ Village Vanguard

It was the first night of his fist gig as a leader at the Village Vanguard, but tenor saxophonist J.D. Allen was cool as a cucumber through his second set. Nobody on stage spoke a word, and there were no breaks between tunes. But with all the energy being put into the music, there probably wasn’t any left over for chitchat.

Maybe there’s something in the DNA of the Vanguard that naturally enhances this sort of group, or maybe the trio really was this amazing. Bassist Gregg August and drummer Rudy Royston were locked together from the first moment, a seething, free-flowing mass gusting with hurricane force. August would saw with the bow for a minute, then switch back to steel-fingered plucking on his massive bass, sidestepping the straight line but still keeping the music focused. Royston operated at full power, his drums ballooning to fill any gap and nearly forcing the air out of the room.

Allen stood impassively amidst the tumult, his eyes closed as he blew geometrically perfect melodies, their logic and symmetry shining out like a beacon. He could not overcome the thunderous volume of the drums and did not try, opting to ride the wave rather than tame or dominate it.

In such a setting, straightforward renditions of “Stardust” and “I Should Care” came as something of a shock. But the character of the music had not changed — not really. Only the dimensions had altered as the drums receded, allowing the band’s sophisticated harmony and fundamental soul to take center stage.

J.D. Allen’s trio will be at the Vanguard all week. If this is how they started, I wonder how they’ll sound by Sunday night.

Update: NPR and WBGO-FM recorded another of Allen’s Vanguard sets, which you can check out at NPR.org

Filed Under: Concert Reviews

Tags: Aaron Goldberg, Anne Drummond, Brandi Disterheft, Eric McPherson, Gregg August, Itai Kriss, JD Allen, Klaus Mueller, Louis Armstrong, Mauricio Zeterelli, New York, Omer Avital, Rudy Royston