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“It’s like a language. You learn the alphabet, which are the scales. You learn sentences, which are the chords. And then you talk extemporaneously with the horn. It’s a wonderful thing to speak extemporaneously, which is something I’ve never gotten the hang of. But musically I love to talk just off the top of my head. And that’s what jazz music is all about.” - Stan Getz

Thursday, 08 January 2009

Review: Dee Dee Bridgewater Brings La Belle Vie to the Dakota

Written by Andrea Canter, Contributing Editor

Friday, 21 April 2006

To truly reach jazz diva stardom in the 21^st century, one needs more than sterling pipes and a pretty face. The airwaves and CD stores are filled with velvety songbirds, and it seems that each week we read about the next Norah Jones or Diana Krall. Yet it can take years for a musician to establish the staying power of Ella or Sarah, regardless of that acclaimed debut or Jazz Times cover. In a sea of strong voices and stronger hype, why does Dee Dee Bridgewater rise above the tide? The answer was clearly evident over the course of her four-set, two-night stand at the Dakota in downtown Minneapolis, her first return to this club’s stage since it moved from St. Paul nearly three years ago. Dee Dee sang sweet, sassy, and sultry—sometimes all in the course of one verse, scatted up and down and in great sweeping spirals of horn-like slides and growls, and easily moved lyrics across language and culture, penetrating the soul of every listener with a look, a gesture, a lingering note.

Photo by Andrea Canter

The core repertoire was drawn from Bridgewater’s recent tribute to her second homeland, France, aptly titled J’ai Deux Amours (Sovereign Artists, 2005), a cycle of love songs that echoes Josephine Baker and Edith Piaf. But unlike a recording, the live renditions provided a multi-sensory experience, a cosmopolitan feast of vocal gymnastics, instrumental virtuosity, graceful gesture, and energetic—at times suggestive—movement. And while Dee Dee is the star of her own show, she’s a wise and generous bandleader as well, frequently yielding the musical floor to her supporting cast from J’ai Deux Amours—a globally rich ensemble including Louis Winsberg on acoustic and electric guitars, Ira Coleman on upright bass, Marc Berthoumieux on button accordion, and Minino Garay on drums/percussion. Each had ample opportunity to display his chops as performer and arranger, and each proved to be equally adept at taking the lead and building the acoustic mesh to support the whole.

Photo by Andrea Canter

Over two nights I heard two marvelous readings of “Mon Homme” (“My Man”), opening with a stunning, rumbling bass solo (nearly quashed by dining room din during the first night), Coleman drawing out a dark and languid line leading into a run of glorious flamenco figures from Winsberg’s acoustic guitar, Berthoumieux adding a gypsy-spiked tango. Bridgewater’s trilingual vocabulary was on full display as she wove her story, seamlessly moving from French to English to scat, engaging first Berthoumieux and then Winsberg in musical duels, twirling a fan seductively. Another highlight, particularly in the closing set, was a French and English version of Neil Hefti’s “Girl Talk” (“Dansez Sur Moi”). A crowd-pleaser with his large array of standard and Latin percussion, Minino Garay launched the tune with a frenetic tour through his arsenal, which included his “chair”—a Cajon, using his hands more than his sticks. The accordion added another tango-infused layer, and then Dee Dee took off, somehow melding blues, rap and hip-hop sensibilities that simultaneously evoked the passions of Shirley Horn and Bettye Lavette. It was a hand-clapping delight on the first night, but a special treat in the last set when Bridgewater invited three pals from the audience to join her—local legends Dennis Spears, Ginger Commodore, and Gwen Matthews. What followed was a prolonged collaborative improvisation, full of vocal twists, turns, and somersaults. The third degree burns on the Dakota stage floor will long mark the path of the fire.

Photo by Andrea Canter

Dee Dee apologized at several points for the lingering effects of bronchitis, frequently coughing off-mic, with perhaps a bit huskier timbre than usual, but seldom displaying any obvious strain. In the last set, she stopped after the first few bars of “Speak Low” to change to a more comfortable, lower key, then seemed well in command again, her muted trombone scat sliding with glowing energy. If anything, her voice had a bit more grit on the second night, while her enthusiasm and passion seemed to climb ever higher as the gig went on. This is not a singer who calmly stands with the mic, letting her voice do all the “talking.” Rather, an actress as well as musician, Dee Dee uses every muscle, every emotion, every posture to tell her stories, to pull in her audience; even if there was no voice, she could physically communicate her soul. But her scat and vocalese are hallmarks, not only as the re-arrangement of syllables and phrases but as the creation of new instruments, most marvelous in her renditions of “La Mer” (“Beyond the Sea”), “Speak Low,” and “Autumn Leaves.” The latter also showcased the virtuosity of Marc Berthoumieux, who seemed to cover everyone from Handel to B.B. King with his orchestral accordion.

Howard Reich of the Chicago Tribune noted that Dee Dee Bridgewater is “triple-blessed with the technique of a virtuoso, the swagger of a great blues singer, and the stage presence of a star.” To this diva trinity I must add that she is also blessed with a unique power of persuasion that transcends her vocal talents, a power drawn from the ability to channel her soul into that of the listener. We were not just transported to Les Champs Elysee, we were consumed by “La Vie en Rose.”

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