There’s something soothing about the way the Monterey Jazz Festival eases into existence every year. It’s like a family reunion: across the fairgrounds, old friends well met renew their acquaintance, trading news from the past year and comparing schedules.
In jazz, as in the world at large, 2009 has been a year of emotional highs, economic lows and heated debates. But the Monterey Jazz Festival stands like a rock amidst swirling seas of uncertainty.
A few parting impressions of the 51st Monterey Jazz Festival…
Restless, shifting, falling in and out of melody or recognizable structure, the Wayne Shorter Quartet is at once intellectually demanding and effortlessly engaging.
Swinging into the Monterey Jazz Festival’s final evening, German organist Barbara Dennerlein wastes no time in digging a deep soul-jazz groove, a supercharged solo that sounds like it requires three hands.
As heard from the rear of a standing-room only crowd, Brian Blade’s drumming is a soft murmur, nearly inaudible save for some scattered bass hits as Blade, mallets flying, beats out a low, complex rhythm.
The Monterey Jazz Festival is more than a three-day gathering. It is also an educational institution, and the centerpiece of this effort is the Next Generation Jazz Orchestra.
At Monterey, the weather is always an open question. The only way to be safe is to dress in layers — over the course of a day, the temperature may swing as much as twenty degrees Fahrenheit, and at night the Arena has a strange knack for making 55 degrees feel like something closer to 40…
Returning to Monterey after a 13-year absence, Maria Schneider is looking back in more ways than one. Monterey was the scene of Schneider’s first major commission, so for this late set at Dizzy’s Den, Schneider and her 18-piece band revisit that earlier work, “Scenes from Childhood.”
In a strong set at the Arena stage, Christian McBride’s sublime new acoustic quintet made a good case for a ranking among the top bop bands working today.
The small stage is crammed with gear — in addition to piano, bass and drums, there’s a Fender keyboard, a set of tablas, two laptop computers and an array of mixers and effects boxes strung together with yards of cable.
“Aw, that’s okay, man,” says the hip-looking older gentleman to his companion, after finding the Garden Stage crowd so thick that all sightlines have been obliterated. “You don’t need to see Maceo Parker!”
