Catherine Russell
A Valentine’s Day Show
Birdland, NYC, February 14, 2023
Reviewed by Alix Cohen
Catherine Russell and her band brought spirit to Valentine’s Day at Birdland this year. As an alternative to candlelight and mooning, there was New Orleans, swing, jazz, and blues that provoked bobbing heads and chair dancing. The artist epitomized her material. Without metaphorically breaking a sweat, she segued from one genre to another, performing songs in the style in which they were written. This is not to say the vocalist didn’t add her interpretive stamp, but rather that she and her band remained authentic.
“There’ll Be Some
Changes Made” (Benton Overstreet/Billy Higgins) she sang, her right arm
extended in perpetual motion; her fingers snapped, her hand grasped and released,
pointed, and pushed air (notes?). Step-tap, step-tap, she infectiously grooved.
Ollie Jones’ “Send for Me,” the title track of her latest CD, arrived with a pronounced
burlesque beat. The guitar wove through the song as if skiing an obstacle
course. Her vocal fanned out; the hot piano cut its own path.
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“Yeah!” “Whoo!” Russell
declared.
There were two
selections by the artist’s eminent father, Luis Carl Russell. “The Swing Cats
Ball” (lyric by William Campbell) arrived with a bass pulse, a classic lag,
then jive. Evan Arntzen’s savory clarinet shined (watch his tongue dart out in
preparation). The undulating “Bocas del Toro” (lyric by Herbert L.
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Levy) was galvanized
by Luis’ Panamanian origin. “Makes you wanna have some rum,” the vocalist noted
as she smiled.
Clara Smith’s “You Can’t Get It Now” had at-ti-tude. “I was crazy ’bout choo/Gave you all my love/But you can’t have it now,” sang a fed-up mate. The lyric almost spat. The piano sashayed, the trumpet was vivid and smooth, but then seemed to squeeze out the music. Russell’s “I think it’s time for some blues,” introduced Alton Redd’s “Let’s Get Together,” a start/stop number with spoken word and wail. The trumpet let it rip. Russell’s voice slip-slided, climbed and dipped.
“You Stepped Out of a Dream” (Nacio Herb Brown/Gus Kahn) entered and exited on tiptoe. A honeyed “The Touch of Your Lips” (Ray Noble) was longlined. Hoagy Carmichael/Ned Washington’s “The Nearness of You” showcased John Alred’s warm trombone. (Who thinks of a trombone as warm?!) Circling brushes and light cymbals skirted beneath the vibrato; it was a lush interlude. Mid-tempo, “Gone with the Wind” (Allie Wrubel/Herb Magidson) elicited a horn-like vocal replete with mute. The guitar whirligigged, while Sean Mason’s piano delivered Morse Code. The brass stayed in the shade.
A tightly bounced New Orleans-style “Dr. Jazz” (Joe “King” Oliver, recorded by Jelly Roll Morton), featured a conversation between Tal Ronan’s cool bass and Mark McLean’s hummingbird percussion. “Teardrops from My Eyes” (Randy Tombs) was inspired by Ruth Brown “cause my mama Carlene Ray was her bass player.” It was decidedly melancholy, yet Russell seemed optimistic that her man would return.
The band was skilled and symbiotic. Every musician respected both the roots and the intentions of the material. Several fine Mark Lopeman arrangements were added to those by Jon Eric-Kelso (also on trumpet) and Matt Munisteri (MD/guitar).
I am, as you may have observed, a Catherine Russell Camp follower. Her voice shifts from flannel to shantung (slubbed silk) to shiny satin. Her control appears as casually sustained as a shrug. The performer vibrated, and took us back, as she delivered the goods without fuss or pretense.
