Chicago does not lack for great musicians, but surely William Russo stands among the most accomplished.
One would be hard pressed, in fact, to name many living American jazz composers who could have presided over a career-retrospective concert as impressive as the one Russo led Saturday night at the Skyline Stage on Navy Pier.
Celebrating his 70th birthday, Russo conducted his estimable Chicago Jazz Ensemble in a traversal of original works spanning roughly half a century. Throughout, listeners had to be struck by the virtuosity of the man’s orchestral writing, the grace of his melodic lines and the rigor with which he develops themes.
From the start of his professional career, in the 1940s, Russo clearly was a naturally gifted melodist who understood the virtues of economical expression.
His first major work, “Solitaire” (composed in 1948 and rewritten two years later), opens with spare and haunting lines for trombone, eloquently dispatched during this concert by CJE trombonist Audrey Morrison.
Even this promising beginning, however, did not foreshadow the remarkable number of musical directions and stylistic innovations Russo would pursue.
The grand brass choirs and astringent harmonic language of Russo’s “Improvisation,” the sublime lyricism of “Silver Rain” (so evocative of music by Samuel Barber) and the radiant spirituality of “I Lift Up My Eyes” (recalling Duke Ellington’s Sacred Concerts) attest to the man’s expressive range.
So does “America 1966 (The Crisis of the ’60s),” an orchestral suite that is a bit dated in its use of simple harmonic devices but nevertheless succeeds in evoking an era. The lamenting, blues trumpet solo of the “John F. Kennedy” movement and the quasi-psychedelic effects of the “Lysergic Acid Diethylamide” movement certainly carry a nostalgic ring.
The writing Russo did for the London Jazz Orchestra sounds about as provocative today as it must have seemed in the early ’60s. Russo has been criticized for the Wagnerian opulence of his quasi-symphonic jazz works, yet there’s no denying the timbral majesty of his orchestration of Dizzy Gillespie and Chano Pozo’s “Manteca” and the stunning tone painting of Russo’s “Stan Kenton Suite.”
In these London works, and others, Russo tipped his hat to the Venetian antiphony of the 16th Century, though updating the concept of two dialoguing ensembles with brash jazz rhythms and extremely sophisticated harmonies.
The concert, which featured brilliant trumpet solos by Roy Hargrove and Orbert Davis, should be released as a live recording. It could go a long way toward giving Russo his due as a major jazz composer.
