Claudio Roditi – Bons Amigos (Resonance Records – 2011)

Most fans, even aficionados of contemporary music, still only vaguely know the great trumpeter Claudio Roditi as the “Brazilian who joined Arturo Sandoval in Dizzy Gillespie’s United Nations Orchestra”. It is a pity that Roditi’s musical reputation rests on so narrow a spectrum in his enormous musical career. Few know, for instance, that Roditi was one of the first Brazilian musicians to relocate in the United States of America: in 1970 as a matter of fact. Since then he has criss-crossed America playing with the likes of Tito Puente, Mario Bauzá, Ray Barretto and Dizzy Gillespie. In Brazil he played with Jose Gonzalez and a host of others. He has played in every idiom of music: from bebop to rumba, samba and was nominated for his first Grammy in 1995 for his quintessential solo album Symphonic Bossa Nova with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Ettore Stratta.

In recent years, Roditi has come into his own again in intimate settings that he has created with fellow Brazilians, percussionist Duduka Da Fonseca, bassist Leonardo Cioglia among others. And his work literally shines in deep bronze colors and shades. Roditi has a singular voice as melodious and spare as that of Lee Morgan and Clifford Brown, both of whom he once cited as reasons for his coming to the US. However, Roditi has forged a path of his own, melting the sensuous nature of Brazilian music into an idiom aglow with the infinite ache of saudade and alive with bebop. So stunning and inimitable is his sound that he seems to set fire to a room in which his music is heard and much of this comes in fact from the exquisite recordings he has made with George Klabin and Resonance Records.

His third album is Bons Amigos that takes its name from a gorgeous melody created by another fine Brazilian musician, Toninho Horta. Once again Roditi soars and this time, it seems, into the proverbial azure so much so that he creates a blues of his own. It is the warmth of his tone, which can be both heartbreaking and joyous at the same time, that seems to emanate from so deep within his musical soul that it brings with it a gravitas that creates splashes of color and shade of mauve and brown and gold as well as indigo and deep blue. His silken timbre is gracefully resonant and infinitely bold and his notes rise and fall like cascading waves. He is—in a word—unique. Roditi has also picked his repertoire here with such studied majesty that the charts sound positively regal even as they are quite accessible to even the casual fan.

“O Sonho,” with its brisk “maracatu-like” rhythmic attack makes a stunning beginning for the album that rises to greater heights as it progresses. Roditi’s latest drummer, the brilliant Mauricio Zottarelli gives notice here that he is a force to reckon with as he shades the piece with earthy tones and polyrhythms. Elsewhere—on “Fantasia” for instance—Zottarelli shows how sensitive he can be. Roditi is also joined by the Brazilian guitarist, Romero Lubambo, one of the finest and oddly, one of the most neglected geniuses of modern guitar. Lubambo shows his ingenuity throughout, especially on “Amandamada” where he appears almost vocal-like on electric guitar. Nicaraguan pianist, Donald Vega is another member of Roditi’s stellar cast here and wastes no time in showing how much in the pocket he is, especially on the trumpeter’s original, “Levitation”.
Then there are the two outstanding pieces on the album: the first is “Ligia,” a heartbreaking ballad featuring Roditi on vocals. With a voice so full of longing and remarkable phrasing, Roditi negotiates a marvelous piece. And then there is “Piccolo Samba” played on the piccolo trumpet, a rather difficult instrument that Roditi has appeared to have come to terms—even mastered in his own way. This chart also features a fine solo from the Italian bassist, Marco Panascia.

This album must surely cement Claudio Roditi’s reputation as a modern master of brass and win him both accolades and awards if true aficionados in this otherwise dismaying industry are paying close attention.

Track Listing:

1. O Sonho
2. Para Nada
3. Bossa de Mank
4. Ceu e Mar
5. Bons Amigos
6. Ligia
7. Levitation
8. Fantasia
9. Amandamada
10. Piccolo Samba.

Personnel:

Claudio Roditi: trumpet, flugelhorn, piccolo trumpet, vocal (6); Romero Lubambo: electric and acoustic guitars; Donald Vega: piano; Marco Panascia: bass; Mauricio Zottarelli: drums.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Claudio Roditi on the web: www.resonancerecords.org/claudioroditi

Review written by: Raul da Gama

Um Abraço Pra Claudio – An Interview with Claudio Roditi

Interview conducted by: Raul da Gama

My palms are wet, but I am not nervous—just uncontrollably excited to be talking with Claudio Roditi, an iconic figure in music. With Brasilian guitarist, Ricardo Silveira and percussionist Duduka da Fonseca, another Brasilian and long-time resident of the Big Apple, Roditi is a seminal figure in the pursuit of a rare idiom in music. Some call it Samba Jazz. If that was meant to conjure images similar to Latin Jazz it certainly goes a long way in to putting the sound into a rather straight jacketed perspective. What would be more appropriate should have been a term like Afro-Cuban music. That term has color and suggests a whole palette of sounds. Musica Brasileira- Jazz somehow does it better. It suggests a complete setting; the feelings and emotions of saudade and alegria that are at the heart of and course through the music called choro and disappear under the surface of the broad palette of sounds—not just rhythms—but sounds and silence of both urban and pastoral Brasil.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

This really is what Claudio Roditi brought to the idiom of jazz, melded it in, blending the shuffle of samba with the swagger of swing, pouring in molten emotion from a heart and soul filled with music. It is what I saw when I went back to one of my favourite images of the musician. This appears on the film version of Dizzy Gillespie’s United Nations Orchestra, one of the last great big bands to grace our planet. This is the fabled performance of Dizzy’s great band at the Royal Festival Hall, London on June, 10, 1989. There are many occasions to gasp in wonder. One sticks in my memory: Dizzy kicks off the set with a rousing version of “Tin Tin Deo” and it is time for the formidable trumpet section to get into the act. The section comprises its leader, the great Dizzy himself, Arturo Sandoval, playing both trumpet and piccolo trumpet and Roditi. The next track is D’Rivera’s “Seresta” and Paquito holds court. His solo is timed for last, after Diz’s wild romp all over the horn, the voice cracking with characteristic Dizzyness and after Sandoval’s pyrotechnics on his trumpet. Roditi returned to solo on “A Night in Tunisia.” Here he captures not only the romance and magical mystery of the North African destination, but also its complex rhythms. It is easy for him. He is Brasilian, of course. Roditi also features prominently in the triangular conversation at the end of the song.

As his turn arrives, Roditi stands, closes his eyes and breathes softly as he sets a blue flame to the embouchure, that blows out gingerly but with spectacular loops and pirouettes. The musical whorl unfolds with the sensational cold fire that Claudio Roditi has been known for. He shuffles the notes, weaving in and out of phrases and lines that suggest a Brasilian twist to the song. The track is Paquito D’Rivera’s “Samba for Carmen” and soon Roditi is in a three-way conversation with Paquito, Slide Hampton, who joins in and himself. Just when the musicians are getting comfortable with that bag, he switches almost unnoticed into a wide, swinging mode, soaring as if chasing one note after the other that escapes the bell of his horn, flying high and mighty. Through all this his eyes are shut as if he were in a gently swinging trance. He might have been. The music more than suggests it—that Musica Brasileira- jazz, picked up with swelling polyrhythm by the other Brasilian in the band, percussionist, Airto, who shuffles his gongs, pandeiro, and rubs his cubical. But Claudio Roditi’s eyes remain closed. Saudade, e paz e alegria…

This is what I hear in Claudio Roditi’s voice… peace, longing and joy. Nothing has changed since then. I expect that nothing will as I dial the number given me for his home in New Jersey. The phone rings and a soft male voice says “Hello…” as if singing a song.

“Claudio..?” I ask… “Yeah,” he answers, and now it’s his turn… “Raul? Contente encontrá-lo…” he continues. I ask to continue in English, always embarrassed by my watered down, Anglo Portuguese accent. He agrees.

I feel I know his music better than I know him when I call, so my aim is to get to know him. What made him come to the United States and stay for so long? Most Brasilians do not. Their longing for Brasil is too much to keep them away from that country for too long. Their connection is umbilical and that chord is never cut. Something else is mystifying. I have just heard his new album and it is one full of his songs. I believe that he is a marvellous composer. He just does not know that. Either this or perhaps he does not think so himself. I want to know more about this and as it relates to his album, Simpatico I hope that we’ll talk about that too. And of course I will ask about Brazilliance x 4. That is an album that gets regular airplay at my house. The groove is hypnotic and exhilarating.

I can hardly wait. I jump right in. “Well, Claudio, let me begin by asking you when you came to the United States and how did you decide to come here?” I ask.

His answer is somewhat oblique, like the way he attacks a solo—inside out: “It was sometime in the mid-60’s… I had always loved to play jazz and there were very few people who were playing it in those days. Remember these were the heady days of Bossa Nova…. I mean don’t get me wrong. I love Bossa… I was playing that too, but…” his voice trails off for a bit as if he is nostalgic…

“But I was crazy about jazz… I heard Dizzy Gillespie, Miles, Clifford Brown, Lee Morgan—a particular favourite of mine—in fact they say I remind them of him…” he adds. “Who is ‘they’? “I ask…

“Critics… writers…” he says with a short laugh. I am just glad that I did not suggest anything like this. Of course, I also believe that while his approach may be like Clifford Brown, or even Fats Navarro, a sliding type of attack…legato and even slurred, as well as more deeply intoned notes, unlike the dazzling, sharp brightness of, say Dizzy, even Miles…

I let that go… perhaps I will bring it up later… and wait for him to continue.

“As I was saying,” he continues, when I stop pontificating, “In 1966, I took a trip to Austria to attend a jazz camp and I ended up staying there for a year. This trip was one of the most meaningful for me. I got to play with some fine guys there. There were no restrictions… I was in heaven… I was playing trumpet there and then I met Art Farmer, a great guy and a great horn player. He was playing the much softer, flugelhorn and I loved the sound. It was then, with Art’s encouragement that I took up the flugelhorn.

“Art was a great guy. He showed me many things and we enjoyed some fine times together. I think that if not for Art I may never have played the flugelhorn, or it would have taken a lot longer for me to discover this instrument…

“Anyway… as I was saying, I loved the Austrian experience. I was able to get away from Brasil… not that I was desperate to, but I was always hoping that I would be able to get a more world experience. I also knew that once I went to Europe I would somehow have a greater chance of getting to America… I don’t know why I thought that, but I certainly felt more confident that I would go the America and be able to realize my dream of playing the music of jazz…”

I am curious. Can this be coming from a Brasilian? I ask him, “But what about Brasil?”

He probably could see that coming and he was ready. “Listen,” he said, I am Brasilian. I will never stop being Brasilian and the culture will always lie there. You will always hear me sounding Brasilian underneath it all. I cannot help that… It is deeply etched in me… It comes from deep within, and I don’t even know about it. But as far as jazz is concerned, my love for this music is enormous. It feeds me in a different way… Also, I did want to ‘make it’ here…”

And so you did, irmaõ, I say to myself, so you did… And how!

“Then I came to America,” he says, as if that were the most natural thing to do. “…That was in 1970… And I set up shop here. It took me awhile but there were Brasilians here and they were helpful. I got into the Berklee School of music… A couple of years there and I had the opportunity to dwell upon the style of Clifford Brown and Lee Morgan there… Maybe that is why everyone talks about it…

“I made connections and these were all over the place and in six years (1976) I moved permanently to New York. One of my best early memories of my time in New York was hanging out at the Village Gate… I remember also Ray Barretto—and I remember him very fondly—in fact I played with him at the Village Gate. There is a recording somewhere…” he adds, as if these details are too much to remember… His voice trails off…

“You know,” he says suddenly, as if remembering something too important not to bring it up immediately and making a jump-cut in his own biopic in the bargain, “I have a unique career… You talked about my Brasilian-ness… well; I must be the only Brasilian musician to play with almost every kind of musician… You know what I am saying?

“I have played with Tito Puente, Mario Bauza in his big band… I have played with Jose Rodriguez in Brasil. I have played in salsa bands and in hard-core Afro-Cuban ensembles—too many to name here—including those deeply dedicated to Yemaya… And I have also played with Art Farmer…”

“And Dizzy Gillespie,” I remind him. “Yes, Dizzy too… You know what, it is crazy these days. Even now people who do not really know me… But when they recognize me they say to me, ‘Hey! Aren’t you the guy who played with Dizzy Gillespie?

“Two weeks ago, I was in Pittsburgh with Roger Humphries (the drummer, who played with Horace Silver on his quintessential Blue Note album, Song for My Father in 1964) and his brother Gregory and this young Latino trumpeter comes up to me and says just that… How I laughed… To think that I am still remembered from that band…”

I too find that quite amazing. Claudio Roditi has moved so far from there, even though he still plays in that Big Band, which gets together sometimes to play Dizzy’s repertoire. But Roditi has such a singular style. In fact he was recognized twice for it very publically. The first time was in 1995, for his solo work, Symphonic Bossa Nova with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and Ettore Stratta, which was nominated for a Grammy that year. The second came in 2009 when Brazilliance x4 (Resonance Records, 2009) was nominated again. In this music, which is far from the mainstream pop and hip-hop music, to be nominated is recognition enough. The rest is politics.

George Klabin’s record label offers a new musical home for Claudio Roditi. Klabin is a great patron. You can tell, when Roditi speaks of him so fondly—as if Klabin knows exactly why. But here Roditi is going and always seems to be there, waiting for him. It is on the tip of my tongue to get to the second reason that I am talking with Claudio Roditi—Simpatico. But he beats me to it. He explains the difference between the two.

“Brazilliance is different for me, for two reasons. First, you know, of course, that it is a ‘live’ record. We were playing this gig at Rising Jazz Stars, in Beverley Hills and Klabin went over the tapes sometime after that and realized that we had something there, so he brought us in to the studio to fill it out. I took Duduka (da Fonseca), pianist Helio Alves, and bassist Leonardo Cioglia into the studio and recorded other tracks. In the end, we settled on what you hear on the album, but essentially it came about because of that gig.

“But Simpatico was totally different. I wanted to do an album of just my songs—songs I had composed myself… George Klabin likes the idea of ‘Roditi, The Composer…’ It is kind of flattering to me. I have never thought of myself as a composer, but I too got caught up in the excitement. I had composed one song with Ricardo Silveira, my great friend the guitarist, when we played together in 1980; I think it was, when we were playing with Herbie Mann. I have written some charts over the years, but never thought of doing an album of my own compositions. I am funny in this way… When I write more, I play less… and when I play more, I write less or nothing at all… You know what I mean?”

Of course I do… But to hear him say it somehow is a startling admission. I wonder then if he suppresses his urges to compose, especially when the ideas start to come fast and furious at times.

“Oh I write those down, but to sit and work at a piece and polish it takes time and it is difficult to refuse a gig or some other assignment… And you know how things are at this time, eh?” He seems to read my mind. I think that we are on sacred ground now, so I do not probe or pursue something that he adheres to with such cold logic. So I approach his second Resonance Records release…

Simpatico has a softer ring to it than his previous production, Brazilliance x4. The title is an evocative one. Roditi is listening to his inner voice here. And he is giving in to its desires and its notions. It is a voice with secret chords and changes that speaks to the soul. To listen is to hear treat the matters of the heart with sympathy and let unbridled desire flow. This perhaps is how the music first happens. Then the hard work of polishing the songs begins. With Claudio Roditi it did not matter… he has had all the time in the world.

Part of the polished nature of the album is the players Roditi has surrounded himself with. Pianist Helio Alves and percussion colorist, Duduka da Fonseca are regular band mates. Both musicians, like Roditi, are Brasilian, but long time residents of the United States, as comfortable in the jazz idiom as they are creating oceans of sound in Musica Brasileira, the idiom that Roditi helped shape. They also understand perfectly how to get involved in the musical tapestry that Roditi weaves softly around him and are virtuoso players in their own right. To add another damper to the mix, Roditi hosts Michael Dease, a young trombonist who plays brilliantly throughout, adding a touch of class in his contrapuntal playing and reading of Roditi’s playing. Romero Lubambo has long been fancied as an inheritor of the majestic spot left vacant by Laurindo Almeida. A guitarist with a deft touch and very expressive intonation and dynamic, Lubambo brings an air of grace to complement the pianism of Helio Alves. John Lee, occupying the bass chair, in place of Leonardo Cioglia, is an old friend and band mate from Dizzy’s United Nations Orchestra. Roditi had played with Luizão Maia, another electric bassist from Brasil, years earlier and somehow, Lee fits the slot quite well, as Maia would have, had he been there for the asking. Roditi and Lee develop a wonderful understanding throughout and the bassist solos on “Slow Fire” using a tremolo that feels like a con arco stretch.

Roditi’s compositions reveal a startling warmth about the composer’s nature. In a sense this is reminiscent of Jobim and Johnny Alf, the latter happens to be a particular favourite of Roditi. Alf never got the recognition he deserved and was writing music in the Bossa Nova mode long before it became standard to call it so. But being a self-effacing musician, he continues to live and write in relative anonymity in Brasil. Roditi champions his cause yet again with an elegiac ballad, “Alfitude” honouring his long time friend. The song has a find inside-out melody that twists and winds in a downward spiral with Roditi and Dease playing counterpoint in the first chorus, before Roditi stretches, squeezing out notes that speak of the silent admiration he has for Alf and the anguish at his being ignored before Dease returns to solo with compassionate grace, followed by a beautiful break by Alves.

On “Piccolo Blues” Roditi plays the little trumpet with such dexterity, making it appear so easy to play. In reality it is notoriously difficult to play. Nevertheless, Roditi shows his mastery of it with a fiery opening theme that plays homage to the blues idiom as well. An old friend, Kuno Schmid, orchestrates “Slow Fire” and Roditi is back on familiar ground, playing behind and ahead of strings again as he did on his first Grammy nominated album, Symphonic Bossa Nova. Roditi’s playing burns with a bright blue flame here as does John Lee’s.

“How Intensitive” is an oblique Bossa Nova tribute to Jobim and even features a sly quote from Jobim’s own, “How Insensitive.” There is unmistakable romantic side to Claudio Roditi and this manifests itself in his elegiac charts, all ballads in honour of his wife of many years, “A Dream for Kristen.” Then there is the homage to his parents, “Alberto and Daisy” a blues for a friend, “Blues for Ronni” and a magical tribute to a friend’s daughter, “Waltz for Joana.” This last song features a vocal by Roditi that shows him to be a singer with perfect pitch on this deceptively simple melody. It bodes well for more vocal work in future as Roditi joins the ranks of Chet Baker as a master of the ballad, singing unlike Baker in a husky and captivating tenor with warmth and regal splendour.

I ask Roditi how easy it was to make this album. “Not very,” he answers, “But I was made comfortable by George Klabin’s confidence and support,” he adds. “I was also happy to be back in the studio with Helio, Duduka, Romero, John and Michael. And Kuno is fantastic when he gets going. George and he have a tremendous rapport.

“So in the end it became a very rewarding project. I suppose I had to get it out of my system… composing I mean,” he says with a bright laugh. Would he do it again? Somehow I want to hear him say, “In a heartbeat.” But Claudio Roditi being Claudio Roditi he says with a barely perceptible shrug, “I don’t really know… I want to play so I guess that means no composing for a awhile.” How about gathering some older charts and reworking them for a big band, or doing them in symphonic form, I ask. “Who knows,” he says sounding as if he is considering the prospect. And there is that commitment to play Musica Brasileira-Jazz… Like the rest of his fans around the world and in Brasil, I can only wait with bated breath.

Claudio Roditi on the web: www.facebook.com/claudioroditi

Interview conducted by: Raul da Gama

John Beasley – Positootly! (Resonance Records 2009)

John Beasley’s Positootly! is awash with Lydian modes. That and it is clear that Beasley has listened carefully to Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter. However, he is also a singular pianist who is chirpy and breaks up his dazzling melodic runs with staccato perfunctory harmonic statements that then bend the music in another surprising direction. Thus he is never predictable and always makes a new surprise flow through the tips of his fingers that take the keyboard to task every once and awhile.

Not usually gentle–or gruff, for that matter– Beasley prefers the direct approach to turn of phrase and will not waste time with niceties. On this record, he is often heard to comp restlessly when bassist James Genus or drummer, Jeff “Tain” Watts find a groove and start to get a bit cute. Nevertheless, Beasley is generous too and offers plenty of room for his cohorts to express themselves in towering solo when the song demands it. Otherwise, his compositions are short and tight and leave only wiggle room for bursting out, literally. This makes the ones on this record more urgent and breathtaking–as in “Caddo Bayou” and “Positootly!”

Beasley is a clever and bold interpreter of the familiar. He is willing to take chances. This is how “Dindi” came to be played in 5/4 time, with barely a hint of Tom Jobim’s bossa nova rhythm. However, the song does sound entirely charming and refreshing. The romance of “Dindi” is more sensuous than platonic as Jobim and Sinatra both had her. The other “Latin” track is Astor Piazolla’s nueva tango, “Tanguedia III.” Tango, unlike many other musical dance forms is more graceful and formal and while Beasley pays tribute to the authentic, he creates a puckish air about the piece, speeding up and slowing down the music, while maintaining a certain raffish swagger that is utterly charming.

The finest work on the record is, of course the music that he lives and breathes, body and soul and that is the music of the South, with its gris-gris and gumbo flavor. “Caddo Bayou” and “Positootly!” are two of his finest pieces to date. “Shatita Boom Boom” (Club Desire)” is a flaming track as is “Black Thunder,” dedicated to the legendary drummer, Elvin Jones. “Elle” comes as a surprise, not because the rest of the music is full of rhythmic fire, but somehow the tenderness embodied by the ballad is not something that was expected from this pianist. Nevertheless, “Elle” is a fine piece, with a soulful soprano saxophone solo from Bennie Maupin.

Brian Lynch has his moment of glory is yet to happen. On “So Tired”, it still is Bennie Maupin, who swaggers through his tenor solo. “The Eight Winds” provides the space for Brian Lynch to stretch and that too on a fast blues that is played at breakneck speed. “Hope… Arkansas” is another warm-blooded piece that shows a tender side to the pianist and this appears to be the perfect note on which to end a fine record.

John Beasley has learnt well from the last glory days of Miles Davis’ funky groove. With a little help from friends, Maupin and the restrained Munyungo Jackson, Beasley has pulled a memorable follow-up to his earlier Resonance record, Letter to Herbie. Only this record need not be reverential to a mentor and so can be more versatile and free to express the heart and soul of this ever-growing pianist.

Tracks: 1. Caddo Bayou; 2. Positootly!; 3. Dindi; 4. Black Thunder; 5. Shatita Boom Boom (Club Desire); 6. Tanguedia III; 7. Elle; 8. So Tired; 9. The Eight Winds; 10. Hope… Arkansas.

Personnel: John Beasley: piano, Fender Rhodes, synthesizer; Bennie Maupin: tenor & soprano saxophones; Brian Lynch: trumpet; James Genus: acoustic & electric bass; Jeff “Tain” Watts: drums; Munyungo Jackson: percussion.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

John Beasley on the web: www.beasleymusic.com

Review written by: Raul da Gama

Toninho Horta – To Jobim with Love (Resonance Records 2008)

This record was released to coincide with the 50th Anniversary of the Bossa Nova. How appropriate that it should be a collection of songs (except for two tracks) composed and played by the immortal Tom Jobim. How much more appropriate is it that the record should be titled To Jobim with Love? Of course all that would come to naught if the record fell below expectation. But that would be so far from the truth that it would seem ridiculous to even to speculate as such. For this tribute to Antonio Brasilero—as well as to Brasil and its astounding music itself—is probably one of the most lavishly appropriate productions in recent memory. And there have been a few ever since Tom Jobim passed away.

What makes this record stand out is the fact that it captures something Jobim was so well-known for and that was his extraordinary art for intricate harmonic coloring, undulating and subtly shifting rhythms, timbral ingenuity and of course his ability to, every once and awhile, spring a melodic surprise. For Jobim sometimes incorporated a hidden chorinho, or a gentle samba or any such motif that brought not just quickened the step in a dance, but also brought a visible, palpable smile to the lyric. Or he could squeeze a tear from a dry eye when he was lamenting with just a subtle minor variation. Here Toninho Horta employs all of his musical skills to bring Jobim’s music to life with gorgeous arrangements and eerily similar delivery of the lyric—sometimes wordlessly—just the way Jobim used to.

As a vocalist Toninho Horta shows his sublime artistry time and again throughout the record—whether he is singing the lyric straight, as in “Desafinado” or harmonizing wordlessly as in “Modinha.” In both cases he exhibits an uncanny grasp of the emotion and his phrasing is absolutely flawless throughout. But then nothing less is expected from this extraordinary musician. Horta is also a formidable guitarist with such a fine command over dynamics that he is almost able to make his solos breathe like his vocals. Whether he is playing acoustic, electric or even the classical flamenco guitar he exhibits such a high degree of technical virtuosity that his reputation as a musician may stand on his instrumental ability alone.

And then there is the ensemble that supports Horta on this wonderful project. Bob Mintzer appears to be an inspired choice for the tenor saxophone colors throughout—almost reminiscent of that spectacular tenor saxophone playing by Joe Henderson on his tribute to Jobim, Double Rainbow as well as on Jobim’s last record—Antonio Carlos Jobim and Friends—the one produced by Oscar Castro-Neves and Richard Seidel and recorded in September of 1993, not long before the maestro’s death. Gary Peacock’s exquisite play especially on “No More Blues” and “Desafinado” is utterly memorable. Gal Costa is also an inspired choice for “No More Blues” and “Modinha.” But the true star is the ensemble itself under the direction of Toninho Horta, who like the true master that he is, conducts this project to absolute perfection.

Tracks: Agua de Beber; Portrait in Black and White; If Everyone Was like You (Se Todos Fossem Iguais a Voce); From Ton to Tom (Silent Song); Cristiana; Meditation (Meditacao); No More Blues (Chega de Saudade); Infinite Love; Promises I Made (Promessas Que Eu Fiz); Modinha; The Girl from Ipanema – Vignette; Without You (Sem Voce); Desafinado.

Personnel: Toninho Horta: acoustic and electric guitars, lead vocals; Manuel Shiavon Horta: acoustic guitar (11); Gal Costa: lead vocals (4, 7, 11); Luisa Schiavon Horta: lead vocals (3) Claudia Horta, Mariana Popoff, Diana Popoff, Perla Horta, Paula Horta, Polyana Horta, Valeria Val, Luciana, Joao Claudio, Ander Guimaraes, Dueler Andrade, Ailton Magioli and Ezequiel Lima: background vocals; Dave Kikoski: piano; Andre Dequech: keyboards, synthesizers; Bob Mintzer: tenor saxophone; William Galison: harmonica; Gary Peacock: acoustic bass; Paulo Horta, Sergio Brandao: electric basses; Dede Sampaio, Julinho Barbosa, Esdra “Nenem” Ferreira, Julio Barbosa, Manolo Badrena, Sergio Brandao, Zeuler Michelina: percussion; Esdra “Nenem” Ferreira, Paulo Braga: drums; Glenn Drewes: flugelhorn, trumpet; John Clark: French horn; Keith O’Quinn: trombone; Lena Horta, Norma LaTuchie, P.C. Castilho, Geisa Felipo, Luciana Pegorer: flutes; Charles Pillow: oboe; String Orchestra: Helen Kim, Hector Falcon, Ani Gregorian, Tom Chiu, Yosuke Kawasaki, Pauline Kim, Krista Feeney, Cenovia Cummins, Joyce Hammann, Rebecca Muir, Mark Feldman, Rob Shaw, Megan Reiter, Ron Lawrence: violins; David Wallace, Adam Hyman, Alejandra Mahave, Lois Martin: violas; Dave Eggar, Jennifer Devore, Karl Bennion: cellos; John Burnstein: bass.

Toninho Horta on the web: www.myspace.com/toninhohorta

Review written by: Raul da Gama

Claudio Roditi – Brazilliance x 4 (Resonance Records 2008)

Charles Mingus would have loved the way Claudio Roditi plays his horn. He is most like Clarence “Gene” Shaw. And like Shaw, Roditi knows the importance of the space between the notes; when to play a note; a quick flurry, or merely a short intricate phrase… and when not to play. His voice is unique; his sound is bright, delivered in short, round bursts of emotion and energy. And because he is one of the most thoughtful musicians around, he almost never plays a wrong note. On Brazilliance x 4 Claudio Roditi is on top of his game, once again. Moreover like the great bebop musicians, whom Roditi no doubt admires—men like Bird and Diz, who was his boss for several years in the United Nations Orchestra—he solos with sonorous rhythm and a quiet fire always aglow, but is the epitome of brevity, always… In and out in a few bars, perhaps a chorus or two. This way the music is always magnificently highlighted, while Roditi and his cohort merely embellish its intricacies in short gentle bursts.

This is Roditi’s first Resonance record and it is a splendid one indeed. He is joined here by three stellar, first call musicians—Helio Alves on piano, Leonardo Cioglia on bass and Duduka da Fonseca on drums. Their expert reading of the charts is near perfect and the empathy with the trumpeter and flugelhorn player is significant. In a day when showboating is the order of the day, each of the musicians here are practically self-effacing. But the music is not. The tunes here cover much ground in contemporary Brasilian music—from Victor Assis Brasil, Johnny Alf, Joao Donato, Durval Ferreira and Raul de Souza—a Miles Davis chart, “Tune Up” and four Roditi originals. All the songs are played in the Bossa Nova mode and the energy is kept up throughout the record.

>

Roditi’s original tribute to the great Brasilian percussionist and composer, “Song para Nana,” is a dreamy excursion into a glowing soundscape, creating an almost halo-like quality for the track. Alves solos with exquisite taste and is also mighty glissando. Duduka da Fonseca is restrained and his splashes of brassy color on the cymbals stoke the composition throughout. “Tema para Duduka” has a sturdier bossa nova rhythm and showcases the drummer’s unbridled skill to great effect. The second half of the song belongs to Duduka da Fonseca, who turns his arms and legs, sticks and drums and cymbals into a harmonic and rhythmic constellation. Of course none of this would be complete without the steady strutting of Leonardo Cioglia, who provides a perfect foil for Fonseca to take the song into the stratosphere.

The Brasilian standards at the start of the record are wonderfully recast and in doing so Roditi is also giving notice that he is not merely a Brasilian with a penchant for jazz, but also a soulful Carioca at heart. “A Vontade Mesmo,” “E Nada Mais” and “Quem Diz Que Sabe” provide ample evidence of this. The live track at the back end of the record and the superb sound throughout make this record one of the finest in 2008/09 so far.

Tracks: Pro Zeca; E Nada Mais; A Vontade Mesmo; Tune Up; Rapaz de Bem; Dinner by Five; Song for Nana; Tema para Duduka; Quem Diz Que Sabe; Gemini Man.

Personnel: Claudio Roditi: trumpet, flugelhorn; Helio Alves: piano; Leonardo Cioglia: bass; Duduka da Fonseca: drums.

Claudio Roditi on the web: www.resonancerecords.org/claudioroditi

Review written by: Raul da Gama

Lori Bell – The Music of Djavan (Resonance Records 2008)

Despite whatever misgivings the producers may have had with regard to this project, namely that that jazz project was centered on the music of Djavan, appears to be misguided. Perhaps Djavan, among the pantheon of Brasilian musicians is least “Jazzy” and more “pop” – a thesis that is somehow incomprehensible and even nonsensical. Perhaps that was why there were misgivings in the first place. But if voices are simply compared – Djavan’s and the voice of the flute – then it is possible to see the supple nature of both. Djavan sings in a high tenor, almost akin to an alto range. His voice appears to float on air. So lithe, in fact is Djavan’s voice that it often resembles the fluttering thermal that lifts the wings of a bird gliding gracefully. Now his music can dart and flit about like an exuberant swallow, and when the need arises it can glide sensuously from in one glissando from down low to way up high.

So how like Djavan’s voice is, in fact, Lori Bell’s flute. It ululates gracefully as it reaches for notes that Djavan has crafted in his music. Bell can swoop down like a bird to capture a dark pensive thought when pondering the elusive missing piece in “Faltando Um Pedaco” or dazzle languorously as the melody uncovers a mystery or two in “A Ilha”. On “Serrado” it is pure virtuosity and emotion. On Liberdade” there appears to me no room to breathe as the air of the song is charged with exuberance. Then there comes the fluttering of magic on “Luz”.

By far the most memorable pieces on the record are the majestic and lyrical “Nobreza” and the absolutely beautiful “Capim” which also includes a sensuous, languorous lyric by Anna Gazolla. “Capim” features Djavan’s trademark gymnastic flights as the lyric leaps octaves even between quarter notes. And both Bell and Gazolla respond with aplomb.
A word about the players on the session: Pianist, Tamir Hendelman appears to have the measure of Brasilian rhythms for even in the subtlest situations “Serrado” he can catch the back-beat and appears to anticipate the inner rhythms like a wizened Brasiliero. The pianist is magnificent on “Nobreza” both in his solo flights as well as in his interplay with Bell. Drummer, Enzo Todesco has also responded with amazing accuracy and he keeps the steady bossa rhythm going while bassist, David Enos undertakes some wonderful flights of fancy.

On “Obi” the quartet is flawless as they traverse the beguiling soundscape created by Djavan in the original piece. This is specially felt in the culmination of the piece where the composer perhaps instructs the players to interpret freely the harmonic swirl that brings the composition to a close. “Canto da Lyra,” is a swinging number that finds its basis in a roistering bossa nova rhythm.

By the end of the record, it is possible to become rather speechless at the pre-production misgivings of the creative team. Granted Djavan was glorified by Manhattan Transfer years ago, but this time round her gets a rousing send up at the hands of one of the finest virtuoso flutists of our time.

Tracks listing: Jogral; A Ilha (The Island); Alibi; Serrado; Liberdade (Liberty); Lux (Light); Nobreza (Nobility); Obi; Canto da Lyra (Song of the Lyre); Capim; Faltando Um Pedaço (Missing Piece).

Personnel: Lori Bell: C flute and alto flute; Tamir Hendelman: piano; David Enos: upright and electric bass; Enzo Todesco: drums; Anna Gazolla: percussion and vocal (10); Angelo Metz: guitar (11).

Lori Bell on the web: www.loribellflute.com

Review written by: Raul da Gama