[Dixielandjazz] Woody Allen Redux

[Steve Barbone]

Regardless of where you are on the Woody Allen Issue you have to love this
review. There is something for all of us in it.

Perhaps the most interesting conclusion to be drawn from his US tour is that
there is a newspaper review of his performance, AND NEW ORLEANS JAZZ, AND
DIXIELAND in just about every city where he performs. How many of us get
that kind of publicity?

Certainly makes the genre more visible, which should help us all since his
band seems to "take the audience by storm" everywhere. Even though, to quote
the last sentence of this review, some may; "get the nagging suspicion that
somewhere Louis Armstrong is looking down, laughing and shaking his head.

Not me, I think Louis is laughing and saying "go Woody".

Cheers,
Steve Barbone

 

Woody Allen¹s star status dominates Napa concert

BY MICHAEL WATERSON NVP Services Wednesday, December 27, 2006 6:58 AM PST

Woody Allen blew into town Saturday night with his licorice stick and
seven-piece New Orleans-style jazz band and took the audience at the Napa
Valley Opera House by storm.

New Orleans jazz, also known as Dixieland jazz when performed by white
musicians, originated at the turn of the last century in its namesake city.
The earliest recording of the style was in 1917 by a group of white New
Orleans musicians called the Original Dixieland Jazz Band. As Allen pointed
out on his first of only two trips to the microphone, the music grew out of
a blend of folk, blues, gospel and ragtime. The purest of Americana, it was,
as Allen described it, ³music of the church and the brothel.²
 
While Allen achieved fame as a comedian, writer and filmmaker, he has played
clarinet since adolescence and has always been a passionate fan of early
jazz. One report says that he chose his stage name because of his admiration
for clarinetist Woody Herman. Since the 1970s he and his band have played
Monday nights in Manhattan at Michael¹s Pub, now the Café Carlyle. The band
made a European tour 10 years ago, which was documented in ³Wild Man Blues,²
a documentary film that Allen produced and Barbara Koppel directed. Now
Allen and company are touring North America.

The Opera House was three-quarters full for the one-night-only performance,
a respectable house given the $150 ticket price. The audience was wildly
enthusiastic from the time Allen appeared on stage in his brown pullover
sweater and beige slacks until the final note of the band¹s encore 90
minutes later. It was, of course, celebrity driven enthusiasm. While Allen
has surrounded himself with good musicians and is competent enough in his
own right, the music they play is of another age, a kind of feel-good museum
piece that without Allen¹s name and presence would certainly have limited
appeal, at least in a concert setting. Rightly this music belongs in a
Bourbon Street bistro with a sawdust-covered floor, where the popular drink
is the hurricane.

In addition to Allen on clarinet, the septet consists of Conal Fowkes on
piano (a beautiful Steinway grand provided by Music in the Vineyards), Jerry
Zigmont on trombone, Simon Wettenhall on trumpet, bandleader Eddy Davis on
banjo, standup bassist Greg Cohen and drummer John Gill.
  
One of the hallmarks of this early jazz form is each of the instruments
takes a solo turn improvising on the melody. In Allen¹s band the solos in
each number were done by the core instruments, trombone, trumpet, banjo and
clarinet, with a couple of opportunities for Fowkes to display his piano
skills. The vocal chores on numbers like Louis Armstrong¹s ³Darkness on the
Delta,² the traditional ³Down By the Riverside,² ³Monkey and Chimp (Abba
dabba dabba)² and other songs were handled by Zigmont, Wettenhall and Davis.
Allen is very aware that the slightest movement he makes onstage draws
audience scrutiny, and he is restrained to the point of catatonia. Early in
the program he caused a titter in the audience simply by taking off his
sweater. He focuses on the music to the point of worship, an idolatry the
audience eagerly joined him in this night. Invariably the solos and vocals
drew applause and the end of the evening brought a standing ovation.

Yes, Napa loved Allen and his band, but entertaining as they were, you get
the nagging suspicion that somewhere Louis Armstrong is looking down,
laughing and shaking his head.