To get men like Jesse Jackson and Mayor Richard M. Daley to move, you’ve got to do one of two things: Mobilize the political heavyweights, or bring on a heavyweight singer.
Aretha Franklin may sport a few extra pounds these days, but her voice remains sleek and supple. As Franklin unleashed “Respect” during her Friday night concert at the Petrillo Music Shell, the mayor and the reverend could both be spotted standing, swaying, clapping their hands.
A fixture at Democratic Party galas since President Clinton took office, Franklin’s set embraced diversity, with something to please everyone: blues, R&B, gospel, a Beatles cover and her trademark soul stylings.
Backed by a five-piece band (including her son Teddy on guitar), ample horns and a string section, Franklin teetered close to drowning in Hollywood-style schmaltz at some junctures. But when she cut loose, not even an army of John Teshes could have stopped her.
Franklin’s strong suit is her ability to take a melody, like the trademark “Respect,” then embroider it in vocal flourishes that take her up and down the musical and emotional scale. On “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman,” Franklin added breathiness to the verses (and got a hand singing the chorus from the Grant Park crowd).
There were some disappointments–Franklin talked her way through the bridge of “Chain of Fools,” rather than risk its dizzy vocal peaks–but on “The Long and Winding Road,” Franklin injected enough gospel passion to give the listener goosebumps.
But there was one enigma of Franklin’s set that defied explanation: The intermission act. As Franklin took a breather, out stepped some scantily clad dancers in feather dresses (imagine Bob Dole chilling out to that kind of act). As bongos blazed, one dancer shook her body in spastic convulsions. She stopped, then the next dancer tried to top her. Then the first one shook again. This act had no title, but one comes to mind: “Dueling bimbos.”
Chicago’s Ramsey Lewis, who straddles the worlds of “jazz lite” and straight-ahead jazz piano, took a walk on the milder side, opting for accessible rhythms and listener-friendly hooks.
The approach sometimes made for plastic passages, but Lewis showed piano bravado on “Wade In The Water.” Over a straight beat, Lewis sprayed polyrhythms of dizzying complexity and melody.
But his concert highlight–a piano improvisation that weaved pop themes such as “What Kind of Fool Am I?” with jazz and classical stylings–went unappreciated. The crowd talked through most of it, even as Lewis played with passionate abandon. With all the gabbing, his rendering resembled a precious tapestry lost in a flutter of red, white and blue banners.
