I returned yesterday from the Detroit International Jazz Festival, billed this year as a “Detroit-Philly Summit,” with artist-in-residence Christian McBride (Philly bassist extraordinaire). My business there was to speak about John Coltrane with fellow panelists Ashley Kahn, Jimmy Heath, Benny Golson and local Detroit legend Faruq Z. Bey. It was a great time, though I was boxed into a pretty nerdy journalistic role, talking about Coltrane’s lingering impact on the Philly scene while Heath and Golson stole the show with their repartee and personal reminiscences. Golson and I had a disagreement about Ornette Coleman’s influence on Trane — substantial, I said; not at all, Golson said. But we left it on a good note.
In all, Detroit reinforced what I’ve learned here in Philly about jazz regionalism, the vital musical universes that exist at a remove from the more celebrated centers of New York, Chicago, etc. Touring the Motown Museum on Saturday morning (the genius of Berry Gordy never ceases to amaze), I was strongly reminded of jazz’s place in the continuum of black popular music. Most of the Motown session players were jazzers, chosen specifically for their ability to improvise without written parts. The Philly parallel is Gamble & Huff’s Philadelphia International Records. I happened to share a van ride from the airport with singer Dee Dee Sharp, the former wife of Kenny Gamble and one of Philly International’s notable artists (along with Wilson Pickett, Dusty Springfield, Laura Nyro, others).
Soon after landing I learned that Barack Obama was coming to speak on Labor Day at Hart Plaza, precisely where the jazz festival was taking place. My itinerary made it impossible for me to stay, but it turned out he spoke for only 11 minutes, and uncertainty about Gustav made it a less-than-celebratory occasion. Obama Fever was thick in the air the whole weekend, however, with gaudier and gaudier Obama t-shirts out in force among the African-American festival-goers. I had to laugh recalling the conventional wisdom from a year ago that black America wouldn’t support him.
The weather was perfect on the beautiful Detroit waterfront — yes, gritty Detroit has a really nice waterfront — and some of the music I caught was fantastic. This year’s theme made the Coltranes (Philadelphia-based John and Detroit native Alice) a natural focus, and so Ravi Coltrane’s tribute to his late mother with Geri Allen, Charlie Haden and Jack DeJohnette (plus harp and tabla) made for a stirring Sunday late afternoon.
My preferred view at one of the smaller stages had me focused on rotating pianists over two days: first Frank Kimbrough with Ted Nash’s Mancini Project; then Geri Allen again with a Detroit-Philly summit featuring Randy Brecker and Bootsie Barnes; then Rick Germanson with Pat Martino; then the dangerous Mike LeDonne with Benny Golson’s quartet; and finally Gerald Clayton with Roy Hargrove’s phenomenal quintet, which laid ruin to the place on Sunday night. I had to run back and forth between Hargrove’s set and an equally fine one from Detroiter Gerald Cleaver’s Violet Hour sextet, across the plaza on another stage. Too much music to keep up with: the story of my life, and the best reason to travel to friendly Michigan for one of the U.S.’s leading festivals.
[P.S. — Another thing the Detroit Jazz Festival brought home was the lack of a comparable festival in downtown Philadelphia. The George Wein-produced Mellon Jazz Festival (formerly Kool Jazz Festival) petered out earlier this decade; the PECO Energy Jazz Festival took place in winter months during the ’90s. Today we have the West Oak Lane Jazz & Arts Festival, which is vibrant but fiercely local in its focus, and a 20-minute drive or so from downtown in Mt. Airy. So the truth remains that there is no big-draw, national-scope summer jazz fest in central Philly. How absurd for this historic jazz capital, former home of Coltrane, Gillespie, Tyner and countless others, to be unrepresented among major American cities in this way. By rectifying the situation, City Hall could boost Philadelphia’s image in a hurry.]
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