RainyDay
October-18th-2003, 09:47 PM
I caught Dianne Reeves last night at 8 PM at Yoshi’s and found her to be more engaging on an emotional level than I had expected. She performed with a three-piece band: Peter Martin on piano, Reuben Rogers on bass and Greg Hutchinson drums. The members of this band have been together for two years and played every bit like a group that knew each other’s next steps well and integrated with Reeves style like veterans, particularly Martin on piano. Drummer Hutchinson was deft at playing at a whisper and working up to a full growl. Bassist Rogers played low-key but effective acoustic and electronic bass.
The trio opened the set with one song before Reeves made her appearance on stage. Her first song was a detailed untitled “song” version of her morning at the spa at the Montclair Hotel. Without missing a beat or experiencing even a slight stumble in her singing narrative, she described the hot tub, the massage and a skin treatment. It was a delightful introduction to let the audience know she was feeling relaxed and ready to conduct a soulful strut through her set. She began most of her songs with a soft and easy scat, which I enjoyed. It isn’t an intricate scat style, just nice and easy. Her mother and sister were in the audience and she made a couple of references to them which seemed to set the stage for a set filled with imagery from her childhood and the influences from her family on her music.
The one thing I came away with from her set was that she has an amazing sense of connectedness to who she is, where she came from, and how it shaped her art. The pride she has in her family is apparent. When she waltzed into the blues with just Martin accompanying her on piano, we knew she had heard this song as a child from her great aunt. This was the same great-aunt who could cook wonderful food and entertain. Reeves made occasional brief references to the double entendres in the song that she had missed as a child. Some of the double meanings passed by the audience as well until she pointed them out and then the audience would roar with laughter. Martin really cooked on this blues number, like a man who had been born with the blues. Reeves sang this song with a mixture of conviction and whimsy by someone who had been there, done that.
Her song about being nine years old took me back to my own childhood. She captured the nonsequitur nature of being a child, flitting from one thought to another while taking for granted the carefree existence of being young. It's a lovely song that was filled with imagery of children giggling, tussling and playing together.
The most passionate song of the evening was her version of Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes.” I have this record by Gabriel and like it very much. The original is a haunting love song that incorporates African rhythms and chanting. Reeves deconstructs then rebuilds the song so that only the lyrics are recognizable. It is a tribute to Gabriel’s skill at song writing that it translated so well from pop to jazz. It is a tribute to Reeves that she could take this song and recreate it into her own powerful statement. Reeves delivered the lyrics as a desperate plea for understanding that brought many to their feet before the song was over. The song brought tears to my eyes.
During her set, Reeves created this extraordinary sense of place, existence, and connectedness. She has a gently powerful voice supported by strength and control. Her ballads create an ache very near the heart and her up-tempo songs are delivered with a bit of playfulness. Sarah Vaughan was a musical influence for Reeves but Reeves stands on her own. I don't know how to describe the quality of her voice except that she creates a magical reality while she sings.
She ended the set by encouraging the audience to tell their stories to others. Clearly, the oral tradition she experienced as a child served her well. It created a connectedness to her family, to herself, to her art and to her audience as I reflected on the oral traditions in my own family as the last notes of her set faded away.
Dianne Reeves plays through Sunday, October 19 at Yoshi’s.
The trio opened the set with one song before Reeves made her appearance on stage. Her first song was a detailed untitled “song” version of her morning at the spa at the Montclair Hotel. Without missing a beat or experiencing even a slight stumble in her singing narrative, she described the hot tub, the massage and a skin treatment. It was a delightful introduction to let the audience know she was feeling relaxed and ready to conduct a soulful strut through her set. She began most of her songs with a soft and easy scat, which I enjoyed. It isn’t an intricate scat style, just nice and easy. Her mother and sister were in the audience and she made a couple of references to them which seemed to set the stage for a set filled with imagery from her childhood and the influences from her family on her music.
The one thing I came away with from her set was that she has an amazing sense of connectedness to who she is, where she came from, and how it shaped her art. The pride she has in her family is apparent. When she waltzed into the blues with just Martin accompanying her on piano, we knew she had heard this song as a child from her great aunt. This was the same great-aunt who could cook wonderful food and entertain. Reeves made occasional brief references to the double entendres in the song that she had missed as a child. Some of the double meanings passed by the audience as well until she pointed them out and then the audience would roar with laughter. Martin really cooked on this blues number, like a man who had been born with the blues. Reeves sang this song with a mixture of conviction and whimsy by someone who had been there, done that.
Her song about being nine years old took me back to my own childhood. She captured the nonsequitur nature of being a child, flitting from one thought to another while taking for granted the carefree existence of being young. It's a lovely song that was filled with imagery of children giggling, tussling and playing together.
The most passionate song of the evening was her version of Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes.” I have this record by Gabriel and like it very much. The original is a haunting love song that incorporates African rhythms and chanting. Reeves deconstructs then rebuilds the song so that only the lyrics are recognizable. It is a tribute to Gabriel’s skill at song writing that it translated so well from pop to jazz. It is a tribute to Reeves that she could take this song and recreate it into her own powerful statement. Reeves delivered the lyrics as a desperate plea for understanding that brought many to their feet before the song was over. The song brought tears to my eyes.
During her set, Reeves created this extraordinary sense of place, existence, and connectedness. She has a gently powerful voice supported by strength and control. Her ballads create an ache very near the heart and her up-tempo songs are delivered with a bit of playfulness. Sarah Vaughan was a musical influence for Reeves but Reeves stands on her own. I don't know how to describe the quality of her voice except that she creates a magical reality while she sings.
She ended the set by encouraging the audience to tell their stories to others. Clearly, the oral tradition she experienced as a child served her well. It created a connectedness to her family, to herself, to her art and to her audience as I reflected on the oral traditions in my own family as the last notes of her set faded away.
Dianne Reeves plays through Sunday, October 19 at Yoshi’s.