Driving up to Saratoga New York I can recall the time, many years ago, when we stopped off because we heard the water was supposed to be excellent. So, on that hot August day, I downed about four bottles of their finest mineral water. Unknown to me at the time was that this was used for people suffering from severe constipation. So, on the return back to New York City I got to see the insides of most rest rooms in the service stations between Saratoga and Brooklyn.
A lot of time and space has happened between that time and now. Rather than going to Montreal for their splendid festival this year, we decided to try a marathon Saturday from noon to midnight. Since a lot of the artists scheduled to perform were favorites of ours, and Saratoga less than two hours drive, we went for it.
Driving unto the festival grounds on a beautiful warm and dry Summer's day, I was impressed with the size of the crowd. You could never judge that jazz is not that popular in the United States by the size of crowds that go to its festivals. At Saratoga, much to my surprise, there was an entire area set aside for campers with tents. There was a general party atmosphere in the air and a lot of good nature and interesting conversations buzzing regarding the jazz performers slated to play for the day.
We arrived and headed for our reserved seats under the protection of the enclosed amphitheater a little after 12:30. The first group to perform was a quasi blues group called: "Ronnie Earl and the Broadcasters." Aside from a couple on neat blues guitar solos we didn't give too much attention to this group as we settled in for the long day ahead.
As the second group was setting up, it was supposed to be The Fort Apache Band,we did a little stroll around the grounds to acquaint ourselves with the area. Food concessions, the usual tee shirt vendors and a large Camelot Styled tent housing a variety of skilled craftsmen and artisans; one in particular selling beautifully created African drums with a fantastic variety of pitches,were within a couple of minutes from where we sat. Returning to our seats, I noticed in the setting up there were a variety of conga and bata drums on stage. I wondered if Jerry Gonzalez was up to something different. As it turned out, the next group was not the Fort Apache band, instead we were getting ready for Chucho Valdés and Irakere.
I was struck by the age makeup of this group. A good part of the group seemed to be of High School age. It didn't restrict their playing in any way. They tackled the complex, bebop,classical, African and hard rock lines of Chucho with ease. The soloists in the group were all first rate especially the alto saxophonist and trumpet players filling in the shoes of Paquito and Arturo. This was my first time experiencing this unique group live. I have been following them on recordings since the Eighties when they produced compositions like "The Black Mass."
Jerry Gonzalez and the Fort Apache Band followed. What a joy it is to experience this two fisted, jazz-Latino explosion. Jerry has a wonderfully soft touch approach both to the flugelhorn and the congas that makes the most intricate lines run smoothly and simply in spite of the complexities involved. When I saw the band in Puerto Rico in 1996 I had some trouble picking up the rhythmic lines of Jerry's conga playing. Seeing him this time, it made more sense to me. Jerry is an original, both in his playing and his group. There is a subtlety in their playing that often overrides the fact that this material is difficult to play. I believe that the band has had the same personnel, more or less, for quite some time. Steve Berrios compliments Jerry's congas hand in glove. Larry Willis is a foundation that is in stone on piano. I believe he is one of the more underrated jazz players on the scene today. The front line in the reed section {the PA system was unkind to the reed players} were Joe Ford and Carter Jefferson. All in all The Fort Apace Band is like Art Blakey and Horace Silver with rice and beans.
Not having seen Gato Barbieri live before but in awe at his full and emotional style, I quickly sat up straight in my seat when he was introduced on stage. He's the epitome of smooth {not to be misconstrued with smooth jazz} and suave. My feelings are that his music reaches back someplace from far within to release something hauntingly beautiful in his approach to jazz. Realizing that he does not hold to the strict standards of the jazz purist, I came away feeling that there is a wide depth of sincerity and honesty in his playing. One of the things that I constantly harp about is how too few players today, regardless of their technical prowess, lack identification. I mean, shit, you knew it was Zoot Sims, or John Coltrane; you knew it was Cannonball or Miles; they had the sound. Gato has the sound; although it may be drenched somewhat in his Argentinean culture, Gato has the sound. I, for one, connected with it.
McCoy Tyner with Dave Valentin, and Brazilian percussionist Valinho Anastacio, followed Gato. I couldn't believe that it's been since the days of John Coltrane that I've seen McCoy perform live. There is still a lot of that legendary quartet embedded deeply into McCoy's playing. Of course, he's added a lot and has grown into a major player from those original seeds. The group got off to a shaky start, again, because of the microphone problems. I could not hear the flute and I thought that Dave was going to strangle the young technician who may have thought he was at a rock concert. SOMEONE PLEASE HEAR ME! We don't need all that volume at jazz concerts. Save it for Pink Floyd or someone...
At any rate, once Dave settled in he again continued to amaze and dazzle me with his playing. He conformed to McCoy's idiom throughout the set, but strayed subtly, breaking into a montuno now and then. The two gentlemen complimented each other throughout the set. One of the highlights of the evening was an explosive drum solo by McCoy's drummer. Again, not to keep bitching, his name wasn't listed in the program and was garbled inaudibly when announced by McCoy. Avery Sharpe has been playing bass for McCoy for a long time. It was an incredible joy to hear his big sound on acoustic bass. He is definitely the extension to McCoy and his ten fingers.
By nine p.m. after nine straight hours of great music, Ada and I were physically exhausted. Unfortunately, we missed John McLaughlin, Grover Washington Jr., and Ray Charles. It would have to wait until another time. After all, we did cram in three days of music into a single afternoon and evening performance. I would definitely recommend Saratoga for its charm, hospitality, beauty and culture. I would only hope that somehow they'd be able to come up with a solution in solving the better balance of sound at these jazz performances.