Takeshi Shibuya Essential Ellington
August 26, 2005
Takeshi Shibuya—Piano
Kosuke Mine—Tenor Sax
Koichi Matsukaze—Saxophones
Takero Sekizima—Tuba
Eiichi Hayashi—Alto Sax
Akira Sotoyama—Drums
Hideko Shimizu—Vocals
Starting the evening of Shibuya-style Ellington out with "East St. Louis Toodle-oo" and "Just Sittin' and Rockin'" felt just right. These two tunes are bluesy and syncopated, allowing the group to get into their tone and control. Shibuya's Essential Ellington is a fascinating reworking of Duke Ellington's music that relies on pristine tone and a kind of majestic control. The unusual instrumentation, with tuba taking the bass, piano often taking the melodies and the saxes often the harmonies, all with Sotoyama's ever-intriguing, never-predictable drumming underneath them all. Just as often, though, the rhythm floated to the piano, freeing up Sotoyama to express himself, and establish a very different kind of counterpoint.
It's kind of a strange concept, re-arranging Ellington in this way, but it works wonderfully. The musicians are clearly dedicated to the music, but without needing to interpret the originals like everyone else always has. They have their own voice, their own way of speaking, and it mixes well with Ellington's flexible, sophisticated works. Ellington's music was always about so much more than just the music. The implications and meaning of the music were always part of what Ellington worked with, not just the melodies and harmonies. Shibuya captures that expansive feeling, even while arranging the music in his own distinctive way.
The solos showed that everyone in the group had their own idea of Ellington. The Shibuya/Mine and Shibuya/Matsukaze were not only elegant and insightful, they had a deep feeling that can only be called Ellingtonian. "Mood Indigo" was slow, soft and pretty, with all the richness of the harmonies flowing out. Shimizu's vocals on "I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart" were bouncy, lively and full of the feeling of the lyrics. "Prelude to a Kiss" was especially nicely done, with everyone sliding notes and holding their vibrato in a way that was both old and new at the same time. Hayashi sat in for several numbers and revealed the freer side of Ellington, pulling and yanking on the harmonies to see just how far they would stretch. Farther than he thought, it turned out, as the songs always seemed to snap back into their original shape by the end.
The range of arrangements was impressive. "Beginning to See the Light" paired vocal and tuba together for what was one of the most unique arrangements of the already unique arrangements. "It Don't Mean a Thing" circled wildly, with everyone spinning out clever, interesting solos in all directions, while the sonnets dedicated to Shakespeare, "Sonnet for Hank Cinq" and "Sister Kate" were given a genuinely poetic feel. Shibuya captured the form, feeling and rhythm of both the sonnets and Ellington's songs.
The crowd, I realized after the last number and encore, was surprisingly young. Rather than the traditional, older salaryman types who stereotypically gravitate to Ellington, there were young fans, aspiring musicians and all kinds of people. Looking at them wander out of the club, I thought that jazz lovers are so used to hearing Ellington done too lushly and too respectfully. So many bands have delivered Ellington overdressed in out-of-date instrumental clothes that it was a pleasure to hear the healthy, creative, and very youthful tensions of the music come out. Shibuya manages that rejuvenation by stripping what is usually lavishly orchestral down to a kind of chamber music minimalism. His spare arrangements go for the meat and bones of the music, rather than big band sweetness.
In doing that, Shibuya and band give us a chance to re-experience, directly and frankly, the music of one of the most brilliant musicians, composers and people ever to work in jazz. Rumor has it that his second volume of Ellington's works after 1999's first is in the works. Let's hope it comes out soon. After all, obviously, Ellington never goes out of date.