Valdés sways Philadelphia crowd with jaw-dropping jazz

January 28, 2012|By Shaun Brady, For The Inquirer

If Chucho Valdés has learned anything in his 70 years, it's how to work up a crowd.

The Cuban pianist is as virtuosic a storyteller in jazz as Steven Spielberg is in film, and often as manipulative. That expertise was fully on display at the Merriam Theater on Thursday night. His seven-piece Afro-Cuban Messengers ensemble is rehearsed with military precision, and had the crowd exploding with applause after every number, shouting at each volcanic percussion burst, laughing at each playful interjection of a songbook standard or classical theme. A flawlessly synchronized "solo" played on congas and drums at one point revealed both the young band's agility and their adherence to plan.

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The leader himself is always a wonder to watch, able to construct jaw-dropping solos that range from classical elegance to harsh atonality. One of the preeminent jazz artists to emerge from Cuba's rich musical heritage, Valdés founded the hugely influential Latin jazz group Irakere in the early 1970s. He has long melded influences from his Cuban roots, a broad swath of the jazz tradition, and classical music. The dexterity with which he juggles them all was wittily shown off by a Rimsky-Korsakov theme used as the launching-off point for a blues trio.

"New Orleans," one of several tunes the band played from Valdés' Grammy-winning CD Chucho's Steps, brought his wealth of knowledge to the forefront. Beginning with a rhythmically charged, blazing theme that gave the two-horn front line a workout, the piece moved through Afro-Cuban rhythms, a hard-bop groove, a touch of stride piano, and a boisterous Ellingtonian swing. Valdés' sister, vocalist Mayra Caridad Valdés, joined in for a pair of gut-wrenching songs and an ebullient encore.

The evening started with a four-tune set by the long-standing trio led by Panamanian pianist Danilo Pérez, who also programs the Kimmel Center's jazz series. The highlight was the multihued closer, "Daniela's Chronicles," with a section written for each year in the life thus far of Pérez's young daughter. The trio morphed from the intimate to the epic with deft interplay throughout, the pianist standing at one point to play a plastic water bottle and goad a chorus of whistling from the crowd.

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