Bilal Fearless with Glasper Quartet in Montreal; Jarrett Throws Mini-Tantrum
Posted 7/6/2010

Texan pianist Robert Glasper was the grateful guest of an Invitation series run at this year’s Montreal Jazz Festival, notwithstanding his pullout of an engagement with Mos Def last year and his relative youth (most Invitation honorees have more mileage). He began his three-night stand in trio with bassist Vicente Archer and drummer Kendrick Scott, telescoped in for a duo with Terence Blanchard, then expanded to quartet with Philadelphian singer Bilal, who’s featured on Glasper’s cross-genre Blue Note album Double Booked.

Unfortunately I myself was double-booked for the first two nights, but heard his original “Festival” and his take on Herbie Hancock’s “I Have A Dream” in the quartet setting. Alas, I wasn’t as enamored of Casey Benjamin’s playing as the enthusiastic crowd at Gesu. A little “smooth” or cliche initially, he did develop interesting textures and ideas in later choruses. I stayed for the dramatic entrance of Bilal, who began a bravura treatment of “In A Sentimental Mood” with a low, audacious first note sung deep into the mic. From there he sprang into the falsetto range and at times reminded me of Little Jimmy Scott. I managed to collar Bilal in the intermission of the Keith Jarrett trio concert later, and it was corroborated: His dad used to take him to check out Scott when he was a kid. Bilal said the Duke Ellington tune was intended to “get the audience wet” before what followed, and given the fearlessness and originality of his ballad rendition (Glasper played lovely close-key, double-tempo fills with a Bill Evans touch), I wished I’d stuck out the set.

Jarrett showed his tougher side with a defiant take on Ornette Coleman’s “When Will This Blues Leave?” After the porcelain intro to “I’ll Know” from Guys and Dolls, he took it into a dancing groove with some uncharacteristic schoolyard call-out melodies during a joyful solo, culminating the piece with a stop-time outro. Of course the set wasn’t without heavy helpings of trenchant romanticism, and Jarrett’s approach—his arms outstretched from the piano as if in agonized farewell—to “Everything Happens To Me” spoke volumes. The moment that resonated most with the crowd was a gorgeously wistful “My Ship” during which bassist Gary Peacock, the masthead, played one-note measures, Jack DeJohnette paddled with brushes (never blandly) and the grand piano’s lid suddenly resembled a sail. At the end of one selection Jarrett trailed off with his right hand as he walked away from the piano into the shadows, stage left, with a measure of Shakespearian drama. At the close of a nice arrangement of the heavily picked-over chestnut “Autumn Leaves” (eights with the rhythm section drew applause for DeJohnette in particular), Jarrett cut off abruptly with a plagal cadence, undermining sentimentality with terseness and/or humor.

After intermission, the trio played for a little over half an hour before taking bows and setting up for the expected trail of encores, but a dreaded flashbulb went off! Jarrett instructed whoever was next to the offender to remove the camera from them, at which point a tide of boos ensued. “I’ve created an atmosphere,” said the pianist (who had been wildly abusive for the same reason on his previous visit to Montreal), before promptly turning the mic into the hissing crowd and strutting offstage.

Not a great fan of protracted encores—it’s too much cake, and Jarrett generally milks them—I’d had a lovely plateful of gourmet traditional fare and was happy to move on. But the Montreal audience is insatiable; they weren’t happy at all. —Michael Jackson