Friday, September 16
It was sometime in the mid-'90s when this writer, watching crappy mid-'90s Saturday Night Live, was suddenly intrigued by one of the Saturday Night Live Band's commercial-break outros. Leader G.E. Smith yielded the floor to a gigantic, bouncer-looking fellow who put aside his trombone to blow an enormous seashell into the lead microphone. The big guy's name, it turned out, was Steve Turre, and for all the novelty of playing conch shell on TV, he actually made real (and quite complicated) melodies on the thing—which was one of a stockpile he keeps of musical seashells in various sizes and types. One supposes that if there's such a thing as a conch-shell virtuoso, it's Turre. But he's an even more imposing figure on the trombone. A Mexican-American, he has a lifetime of experience in the Latin and Caribbean music traditions under his belt, with all of the raw power and lithe dance rhythms that those musics entail. But he's also a protege of the great jazz explorer Rahsaan Roland Kirk, which means he's developed a fearsome versatility and solid footing in jazz both straightahead and experimental. Talk about a well-rounded musician. Steve Turre performs with his quintet at 8:30 and 10:30 p.m. at Bohemian Caverns, 2001 11th St. NW. $24.

Saturday, September 17
Alto saxophonist Kenny Garrett is one of the last major jazz figures of whom we can say "he got his start playing in the Duke Ellington Orchestra." (Although it must also be said that Garrett joined the band after Duke had died and his son, Mercer, was running the organization.) It's also now been a quarter century since Garrett made his real breakthrough, as a member of Miles Davis' final-period band. That range establishes him all by itself as a jazz omnivore, overlooking the nearly three decades he's enjoyed as a bandleader in his own right. The simple fact is that Garrett does it all, happily devouring bop, modal, fusion, and free jazz (sometimes all in one tune). Still, he takes the time to look back, as on his 2008 recording, Sketches of MD, a reflection on Miles Davis and Garrett's time with him. That glance at the past is in keeping with Garrett's work, but it doesn't tell the whole truth—which is that he has spent his entire career embodying the present moment in jazz. Garrett performs at 8 and 10 p.m. at Blues Alley, 1073 Wisconsin Ave. NW. $27.50.

Sunday, September 18
Nobody else sounds quite like Angelica Sanchez. The pianist scarfs herself in avant-garde raiment, with a dark-shaded and tightly honed polytonality on the piano and sundry other keyboards, which she plays with the rolling clusters of a harp. It's a moody, introspective sound that's further overlaid with her choice of musicians, all of them immersed deep in the vanguard: Tony Malaby on sax, guitarist Mark Ducret, bassist Drew Gress, and drummer Tom Rainey. They weave and overlap against her piano ponderings like a tapestry of unconventional designs and colors. But there’s something more to Sanchez’s probings. Like an electron-cloud model of the atom, she is the steady nucleus at the heart of the crackling swarm, staking out a surprisingly firm melodic realm that serves as the bond for her every musical performance. No, it’s not the easily accepted notion of melody—how could it be?—but it’s smart, confident, and unexpectedly warm. The Angelica Sanchez Quintet performs at 7 p.m. at Bohemian Caverns. $15.

Though the celebrations came last night (complete with cake and champagne), it was actually one year ago today that the Bohemian Caverns Jazz Orchestra made its first appearance on the stage of the U Street club whose name it bears. "This group is something special," I wrote at the time. "If the orchestra can maintain the level of energy and commitment it provided in its debut...then it will be a band to watch." I also suggested that the Monday-night slot was a potential tough sell for the band.

How right, and wrong, I was! On its birthday, the BCJO has lost none of the energy and commitment it showed in those heady days of April 2010. On the contrary, the 17-piece band's enthusiasm shines even brighter now than it did then. They are a little more seasoned and cohesive, having had time to learn each other's strengths and styles. And they all sound like they love the hell out of what they're doing. That's perhaps why the Monday concern has not been a concern at all: The band regularly sells every seat in the house.

A lot has changed in that year of life—in fact, a lot had changed in its first six months of life, including some personnel changes and the expansion of the trombone section. Today things are even more different, especially among the trombones. One of that section's members, Ryan McGeorge, actually doesn't play the standard slide trombone at all, but euphonium and valve trombone. McGeorge and Darius Jones succeed former trombonists Corey Wallace and Greg Boyer—the latter being among the most powerhouse musicians ever to grace the Caverns' bandstand. In his absence, however, a newfound balance of power exists within the section, a good thing for the instrument that more often than not anchors the arrangements.

That's not to say they're not distinct players, though. Shannon Gunn has an unusual heft, playing short phrases where the pauses in between feel even mightier than the phrases themselves, and lead player Steve "Nature Boy" Shaw plays glowing, fluid lines in pieces like "Lady Bird" and "Blue Cellophane."

In the trumpet section, only one original member—BCJO co-director Joe Herrera—remains. His current cohorts include Brad Clements (not available last night), Mike "Bags" Davis, and D.C. favorite Donvonte McCoy. Here, too, there's a peculiar balance in their sounds: Davis has the brightest tone, McCoy the darkest, and Herrera works in between. There also seems to be a new adventurousness tothe section, perhaps because of McCoy's sublime lyricism (heard in a brilliant solo on Thad Jones' "From One to Another").

The rhythm section and reeds remain intact from the first night (though last night there were substitutes in both: alto saxophonist John Kocur, nicknamed "The Smoker" for his extraordinary technique, sat in for absent Brent Birckhead, and dynamite drummer Lydia Lewis for Dave MacDonald). There's a lot of power in the reeds, with '50s-ish blowing-session muscle in tenors Charles Phaneuf and Elijah Balbed and cream in Sarah Hughes' alto; still, it's likely the rhythm section that gives the BCJO its special flavor. Specifically, it's pianist Amy Bormet, as crucial to this band's sound as Johnny Hodges was to Duke Ellington's. Bassist Regan Brough and guitarist Rodney Richardson are terrific players who bring incredible things to the table, but without Bormet, the band would have to seriously alter its direction.

Its direction, by the way, still sparkles, with classic tunes and arrangements associated with Ellington, Jones, Gil Evans ("Yardbird Suite"), and Maria Schneider ("Lady Bird"), among many others. A particular highlight of last night was a driving take on John Lewis' arrangement of the classic "Move." But the musicians themselves also contribute to the book; Bormet provided the sumptuous, loose waltz "Lightning," another highlight with its gorgeous flugelhorn line from Herrera. It makes for an additional layer of ambition for the orchestra: to find new depth and perception in the work of the big-band titans is one thing; to find new depth and perception in itself is quite another.

One year into its life, then, the BCJO finds itself not only fulfilling the promise it set out with at birth, but heading in equally promising new directions and doing so with aplomb. They're an essential force for D.C. jazz, and they're coming along spectacularly. This writer left the club with one overriding impression: That I've got to go out and see them more often.

Los Angeles native Gretchen Parlato is among an elite group of musicians who made their breakthrough in Washington, D.C.: She was the winner of the 2004 Thelonious Monk International Jazz Competition for Vocals. Seven years and three albums later, Parlato is one of the most acclaimed and closely watched singers in jazz, and her star is still rising. Ahead of her two-night stand at Bohemian Caverns this weekend, Parlato talked to Washington City Paper about songwriting, playing with Terence Blanchard alums, and developing her unique sound.

Washington City Paper: On your new album, The Lost and Found, it seems you’ve branched out quite a bit in terms of composing your own material.

Gretchen Parlato: Yeah. That might be what allows this album to stand apart from the others. It just felt really good to release that.

WCP: Is it all new? Or something you’ve been working on for several years?

GP: A little bit of both. There are some songs that were composed specifically for this album, but there’s other songs and ideas that I’ve had for years that I just finished. I got in my own way for a long time in terms of finishing them—or in thinking that I could write at all.

WCP: Does that apply as well to the standards and other prewritten tunes that you’ve added lyrics to?

GP: Well, [Wayne Shorter’s] “Juju,” for example, those lyrics were the first attempt at writing that I ever tried. That was back in the Thelonious Monk Institute, so around 2001; the assignment from Terence Blanchard was specifically to write lyrics to “Juju.” And it was an assignment, so you kinda pretend you can do it even if you don’t know how. [Laughs] I said, “Okay, sure,” but I was terrified. And that’s what came out. So that was 10 years ago that I wrote that.

WCP: Is that an avenue you intend to pursue more fully?

GP: Yeah! There’s a handful of songs that have been composed by my friends and musical peers that are exquisite pieces of instrumental music that I hear words to—certain ones. It’d be a wonderful thing to collaborate with these other musicians.

WCP: Speaking of collaborations—and it’s interesting that you mention studying with Terence Blanchard—you seem to have a certain affinity for members and former members of Terence’s ensembles [pianist Aaron Parks, bassist Derrick Hodge, drummer Kendrick Scott and—most frequently—guitarist Lionel Loueke]. Is that a coincidence?

GP: Well, it’s definitely true. I met Aaron through Terence, and Derrick, too; I met Kendrick before Terence, but right around the same time that he started playing with Terence. I think it’s just kind of how life is; just before I moved to New York I was in the Monk Institute, connected with Terence Blanchard since he was the Artistic Director, and was in touch with all these musicians because we had heard his band often. I think of it more as meant-to-be—that things just sort of happen, and you live your life in a certain pattern and you look back on it and think, “Oh, of course! This is why things are the way that they are.”

WCP: Did you meet Lionel through Terence?

GP: No, I met Lionel at the audition for the Monk Institute. Terence was there as a judge, so I guess there was a connection there, but he wasn’t a part of Terence’s band yet. We were students together.

WCP: It was a surprise to find that Lionel wasn’t on the new record. You and he are such a sympathetic musical partnership.

GP: We definitely are! But, well, as life would have it, he’s so busy I can’t even keep track of his schedule. He’s playing with everybody, mostly Herbie Hancock. So it was harder for us to find the time to connect, but in a good way, that makes it even more special when we’re allowed to play together. It’s also good in that it got me to connect with Taylor Eigsti and form a quartet that was piano-based.

WCP: So that quartet, is that going to be your touring band in D.C.?

GP: Yes, through next fall I’m with Taylor on piano and keyboards; Alan Hampton on bass, and he’ll also sing and play guitar so we can perform “Still,” the tune we wrote; and Kendrick Scott on drums—though specifically in D.C., the drummer is Mark Giuliana, who’s just awesome, and anyone who doesn’t know how awesome he is there’s lots of videos with live performances.

WCP: Alan and Taylor both have compositions on The Lost and Found, don’t they?

GP: Yeah. Taylor wrote a song, the last track, called “Without a Sound.” Well, it actually didn’t have a title. He wrote it for me, to write words to, for the album. I titled it after the lyrics were written. Alan’s piece “Still,” that again was just instrumental and written for me to sing.

WCP: You sound so different from just about anyone else in jazz. How did you develop that style?

GP: My father is a jazz bass player, so I grew up hearing him practice and going to his gigs, and his father’s a trumpet player and a singer. And my grandmother on my mother’s side, she always played records by Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughan, Nancy Wilson, and Frank Sinatra. So I grew up hearing jazz without knowing what it was.

But I think specifically that style you’re talking about, that’s understated and subtle, I think that just came out of hearing other singers do that. Like Bobby McFerrin. Like Joao Gilberto and bossa nova, and hearing that when I was really young and being completely moved and touched by the ability of these artists to draw you in, but without throwing the music at you. They have their palms up as an offering, and if you want to come into that world you’re welcome to, but it’s not forced upon you. It’s just the beauty of subtlety, of understatement, of something that is a quiet power, an intensity.

It’s also something that was just in my nature. I always say that if I had a voice that was a big belter, and I could sing like Aretha and do amazing ornaments and runs, I would. If that was my makeup I would do that. But it was a matter of learning what is the natural makeup of my instrument and my body, just accepting the voice that I have and learning what I could do with it. So there’s your very long answer! [laughs]

WCP: Were you aware going in that you had something original?

GP: No, I don’t think I ever thought of it that way. I grew up singing in choirs just like everybody else, and growing up with musical theater and imitation. I grew up on The Sound of Music and I wanted to be Julie Andrews when I was little. Or anything—it was the '80s, and I would sing along with Madonna and Whitney Houston. And before I found jazz I was singing in musicals, which is a kind of a belting tradition, and while I did do that to me it was like, “That’s a character when I do that. That’s not me singing, as an extension of how I speak.” I think that’s really the key. Singing shouldn’t sound like you’re trying to be anyone else.

I also like to challenge myself. I know that people often describe my singing as “whispering” and “hushed,” and I like that. I think there’s definitely an air surrounding my voice, but I believe it’s more than a whisper. In a whisper there’s no sound, no tone, and I try to reach the full capacity that I can. So I’m learning, let’s steer away from this breathy whisper, because if that’s all that people are hearing then they’re missing something.

Saturday kicks off a new weekly series of jam sessions beginning at midnight. Longtime Caverns patrons will recall that, for a few years, the club had a Friday late-night jam session featuring the D.C. trio The Young Lions. Those ended in 2009, but owner Omrao Brown has decided to give it another shot on Saturday, when clubgoers are more likely to stay out late. This Saturday features The Jolley Brothers, but the jams will rotate regularly between the Jolleys, the Young Lions, and Will Rast's organ trio. It's a welcome addition to a D.C. jam-session culture that's getting ever deeper.

Sunday offers more of a change of pace for an existing feature. The Sunday Jazz Lounge, the weekly gig by the Joe Herrera/Rodney Richardson quartet that premiered in March at Twins, has been a big success with its stellar band and novel addition of an opening soloist. Unfortunately, Twins was booked every Sunday in April. Thus, guitarist Richardson has announced that the lounge is moving, at least for this week, to the Caverns. (Guest soloist this week TBA.) There's no indication that this will be a permanent home—but one way to help ensure that is a big turnout at the 8 and 10 p.m. sets. $5.

A PBS documentary on the history of rock & roll, broadcast about 15 years ago, features Little Richard talking about his ascent through the urban blues and R&B circuits and into his first recording session, where he was expected to play the stuff he played in the nightclubs. "But me and the young kids, we was tired of all that slow music—we wanted to boogie!" he says. "Same as when rap music came in today; the kids got tired of what was going on and they wanted something different. They wanted something from their generation."

Rock and rap both have strong powers of reinvention, creatively as well as commercially; jazz has the creative stuff down pat, but the commercial end has been one of the music's central dilemmas for half a century. Artists know what they want to say, and how to say it, but how to get the masses' attention with it—in particular, young African-American masses?

The answer's not entirely clear, but a good starting point might be to follow Robert Glasper's lead. The pianist's quartet, The Robert Glasper Experiment, played its innovative hybrid of jazz, hip-hop, funk, rock, and electronica over four sets at Bohemian Caverns this weekend, and every one of them was sold out. Hell, they were at least sold out; if the Caverns had rafters, people would have been hanging from them.

That's happened before at the Caverns. Aging legends like Ron Carter and Benny Golson fill every seat in the house, too. The difference is the makeup. Whereas the audience that comes to see Carter and Golson tends toward the middle-aged and affluent (not to mention reverent local musicians), the crowd that lined up around the block to see Glasper was so diverse it could have been selected by a Hollywood casting director. Listeners young and old; male and female; white, black, Asian, and Hispanic were responding with equal fervor to Glasper's edgy mix. And the quotient of young African-Americans was sky-high.

Some people may have been drawn to the club through familiarity with Glasper's extra-curricular activities. His credits include recordings and live performances with Mos Def, Jay-Z, Maxwell, Common, Q-Tip, and Kanye West. For the strictly jazz folk, he's also worked with Terence Blanchard, Roy Hargrove, and Christian McBride. He's even got Carly Simon's name on his resume. But it's obvious that what really gets people's interest is his full-on embrace of the contemporary musical world. Glasper leads a band that on Saturday night featured—for just one example—himself on both a trippy Rhodes and harmonically gymnastic piano; Derrick Hodge on pointed, irresistably funky electric bass; Chris Dave with speedy, complex drumbeats with a hip-hop insistence; and Casey Benjamin singing and playing alto saxophone through a vocoder. All of this was for a rendition of "Smells Like Teen Spirit." It was relentlessly innovative and goddamn hip—but it never, in its groove or its harmonies or its improvisational space, could be accused of that awful old trope of "abandoning jazz." This was the real thing, and the kids loved it.

There's a lot to see in this: Glasper and his band's resourcefulness, Caverns captain Omrao Brown's marketing shrewdness and ear for creativity, another example of D.C.'s jazz rebirth. But it also points to the folly of the continued insistence of some forces in jazz that the music's future lies in institutional support, unless your name happens to be Wynton Marsalis. Unless we're willing to accept that jazz is music for bluenoses and "authenticity" worshippers, its future lies where the future of any art form always lies: in addressing the present. Along with a few others (notably his fellow Houstonian, pianist and former schoolmate Jason Moran), Glasper is revitalizing jazz for youthful audiences by giving them something for their generation. We're in good hands.

We've already talked about the year's biggest story, the ascent of Bohemian Caverns to the top of the heap in D.C. jazz. But here are the other big happenings of 2010:

1. Sarah Hughes, a talented young saxophonist and hardworking District supporting player, made a promising debut as a bandleader at Utopia on Jan. 7.
2. The East Coast Jazz Festival was reborn as the Mid-Atlantic Jazz Festival in February, putting local stalwarts and promising students on the bill with great national acts.
3. Local dynamo Nasar Abadey and his Supernova ensemble was selected to represent the United States as part of the State Department's "Rhythm Road" cultural exchange program.
4. Alto saxophonist John Kocur, pianist Amy Bormet, and drummer Nate Jolley were recipients in March of the Kennedy Center's prestigious Betty Carter Jazz Ahead residency.
5. A new Sunday night jam session began at Dahlak Eritrean restaurant on U Street in April.
6. The Bohemian Caverns Jazz Orchestra became the city's only house big band when it organized and premiered at the Caverns in April.
7. A slew of outstanding new recordings by Bobby Muncy, Kevin Pace, Saltman Knowles, Nasar Abadey, and the Jolley Brothers.
8. The D.C. Jazz Festival changed its name, refreshed its one-world jazz perspective, and found perhaps its surest footing in its six-year existence.
9. D.C. jazz had its own "Revolution Summer", with a full plate of festivals and national acts colliding with seven nights a week of local jazz in the U Street/Adams Morgan corridor.
10. Saxophonist Elijah Balbed established himself once and for all as one of the major forces at work on the local jazz scene (and its best new musician).
11. CapitalBop, a comprehensive new website advocating jazz in the District run by local jazz lovers Giovanni Russonello and Luke Stewart, launched in July.
12. Butch Warren, the District's most significant (and significantly troubled) jazz ambassador, was fired from his longtime gig at Columbia Station.
13. Longtime U Street jazz venue Cafe Nema, one of the key locales in the District's recent jazz renaissance, closed its doors in October.
14. Among many great national acts performing in DC (including a live recording made here in November), free-jazz great Cecil Taylor performed a rare and extremely well-attended—not to mention brilliant—concert at the French embassy on Nov. 10.
15. The aforementioned jazz advocates at CapitalBop became jazz impresarios when they presented the DC Jazz Loft, one of the best and most important showcases for local jazz musicians in recent memory.
16. HR-57 Center for the Preservation of Jazz and Blues left its 15-year outpost on 14th Street NW for the greener, hipper pastures of H Street NE.

Not bad for a year's work, huh?

It's true. It was 1926 when Club Caverns opened in a dark, windowless basement on the corner of 11th and U Streets, beneath what was then a neighborhood drug store. It was a speakeasy, all right — one that survived the Depression, the repeal of prohibition, two name changes, and at least half a dozen stylistic shifts in the jazz music it presented. Indeed, it thrives — as 2010 enters the home stretch, the Caverns stands as the core of DC's jazz scene, and routinely attracts the best local and national acts to be found in this city.

So, says Brown, he's beginning plans now for a yearlong celebration at the club, with a marathon of top-tier acts. Many of these are still too early in the planning stages to discuss, but he did mention two names as bookings-in-progress. One is Yusef Lateef, the multi-instrumentalist/spiritualist/pioneer in bringing Eastern sounds into jazz. The other merits all the same descriptors, as well as that of "icon of the avant-garde." Let's just say his name starts with P and ends with haroah Sanders.

Stay tuned, folks.

An occasional feature in which esteemed D.C. rapper Head-Roc shares what’s on his mind.

[A conversation I had yesterday about the cancellation of yesterday's Cornel West Theory show at Bohemian Caverns. All me talking.]

“Really? The show is cancelled? Why?”

“They were shut down? Since Saturday?”

[My “Mouth”]

Well, why the fuck didn’t the venue tell The Cornel West Theory that before tonight??

…and there goes more fuel to the fire of my argument that the D.C. entertainment industry is dysfunctional and predatory, and that we must do something about it.

I won’t lie to you. Upfront, I admit I'm writing this piece because:

1. I am pissed that I got all gussied up, out in full diplomatic hip-hop regalia, to go see The Cornel West Theory rock the house at the uber-historic e Bohemian Caverns only to find the place has been shut down—since Saturday!
2. I am very pissed that I took the time out to do my best, spreading much love to my Cornel West Theory brothers and sister, writing yesterdays Head-Roc’s Mouth!

Wait a minute. No one told The Cornel West Theory that Bohemian Caverns was closed?

Including the promoter of the show, I must assume?

And on that note, others might have known as well. Hell, maybe I was supposed not to have known, but one thing’s for sure: Who should have been contacted were the Cornel West Theory point people. Maybe their record company, Socket Records, should have known?

And what about the other people who did know? Who knew? Did the Up and Up Open Mic people know? They got the hottest shit going in the building with that Tuesday night joint. I don’t know if they knew or not—and I’m not asking them to clear themselves either. I do know that they weren’t there last night, either. I do know it’s not their fault that Bohemian Caverns was shut down by the city for certain violations. It can’t be the fault of Up and Up’s, Cornel West Theory’s, or any other of the event planners and artists that produce shows there because all they do is make these music venues/hybrid restaurant/nightclub/coffee shop/bookstore/art gallery spaces shit-loads of MONEY while rarely and barely getting paid for the WORK they do to promote and popularize that people come and spend MONEY at these “entertainment” spaces.

So, the question is: Where does the money go? Well, since I don’t play devil’s advocate I won’t do the typical, by itemizing what it takes to run a venue, other than to say:

What it takes to sustainably operate an entertainment venue is “What It Takes!” And until proprietors take the time to cover all the bases of “What It Takes” to run a venue, then they  should not attempt to do so. If all bases of “What It Takes” to operate as an entertainment venue are not covered, instantaneously the venture devolves into a business operation where TAKING advantage of the local arts scene is the only way to stay afloat. As pointed out in my previous articles, this predatory relationship is now status quo in Chocolate City.

Now, this piece isn’t to lump the stewards of Bohemian Caverns into the mix with other venues and persons running their venues that I’ve mentioned in past espousing on this issue. I am, however, saying that for Bohemian Caverns to not inform one of our region's most tenured, authentic, polished, prolific and loved groups that it couldn't host last night's show, which wasadvertised for weeks, is fucked up. It’s fucked up to The Cornel West Theory. It’s fucked up for those of us who are fans of their work, and it’s fucked up for Bohemian Caverns and its history. However, fucked up doesn’t mean it’s not fixable. And I would love to see that happen in this instance.

Hi, my name is Head-Roc, and I am fan of The Cornel West Theory.

Considering that today is the midpoint of the DC Jazz Festival, pickings are extremely slim; the calendar lists exactly two events this evening. Make of that what you will, but tonight is perhaps the perfect opportunity, if you haven't already, to catch the District's only in-residence big band: the Bohemian Caverns Jazz Orchestra.

We covered the BCJO's debut back in April, and reports are that it's only gotten better as it's settled into its regular slot (Monday nights at 8 p.m.) and dealt with some personnel shifts. New charts come into the repertoire all the time—members are encouraged to bring in pieces for the band—while the temperament stays remarkably cool, with co-leaders Joe Herrera (trumpet) and Brad Linde (baritone sax) taking a laid-back management style and letting the other musicians take the reins on the arrangements they provide. "This band has less ego clashes than any other band I've been in," one member told me recently. "It's just people who really want to play, really want to learn, and just want to be a part of a big band."

All good reasons to check out the BCJO tonight. The group hits the stage at 8 p.m. at Bohemian Caverns, 2001 11th St. NW. $7.

Photo by Meher J. Dalal.