[Dixielandjazz] Banu Gibson reviewed - French Quarter Fest 2013

[Robert Ringwald]

French Quarter Fest 2013: Banu Gibson Defies the Pouring Rain
by Doug MacCash
New Orleans Times-Picayune, April 11, 2013
Banu Gibson removed a soggy song list from a music stand, stepped to the edge of
the stage and squeezed the rainwater out of the forlorn wad of paper. Twenty minutes
earlier a chilly spring deluge had swept across Jackson Square, dousing the stage
-- despite the tent that covered it -- with water and sending Gibson's fans scurrying
for cover. As gusts of wind scoured the crepe myrtles, Gibson's band retreated to
the rear of the stage, watching the water roll off of the tent flaps and waiting
for word if the show would go on.
Weather wise, it had been a sword of Damocles start for French Quarter Fest 2013,
with continuous cloud cover and tornado threats through Thursday morning. When Gibson's
show began at half-past noon it still seemed possible that the rain would hold off.
Wearing a beatnik-style black and white striped pullover, the auburn haired singer
launched into Louis Armstrong's "I Got a Heart Full of Rhythm." Simultaneously, streaks
of silver began slicing through the sky and umbrellas began popping like colorful
mushroom caps. The refrain of the first song was prophetic.
"When skies are gray and everything's wrong, I'll get by, just on a song," Gibson
sang.
Gibson is a traditionalist. Her French Quarter Fest set was studded with jazz-era
gems made famous by Bessie Smith, Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald. Her voice is
clear. Her phrasing is precise. Like a master chef, Gibson expertly served up every
delectably witty lyric. It was during the closing bars of a very early Judy Garland
hit "Swing Mr. Charlie" that the sword of precipitation finally fell.
Wires and water were everywhere on the stage. But considering everything, spirits
were high. Gibson pointed out one dedicated French Quarter Fest fan that'd held fast
in a folding chair beneath an inadequate tree as the rain pelted her.
Sometime during the antediluvian part of the show, Gibson had introduced Bobby Havens
a venerable trombonist who had once played with Lawrence Welk's orchestra -- specializing
in Dixieland performances. It was one of those six-degrees-of-separation moments
that improbably linked the mellow television maestro Lawrence Welk (1903-1992) with
rough and ready rock 'n' roll drummer Levon Helm (1940-2012). Gibson and Helm opened
a short-lived French Quarter nightclub together more than a decade ago. As occasional
thunderclaps boomed overhead, Gibson recalled that Helm was a likable, down to earth
sort of character. She and he used to swap stories, she said.
In time the rain quit. A man in a yellow jacket squeegeed water off of the stage.
Musicians did their best to gather limp sheet music. The plastic-coated crowd reappeared
out of nowhere and the show was back on track. A couple danced to the boogie-woogie
of the final song on the wet pavement. Inconsiderate droplets fell from time to time.
"Baby," Gibson belted, "what's on your worried mind?"
"Baaaaaby, what's on your worried mind?"
Look for a video of the rain-interrupted performance tomorrow on NOLA.com
-30-


-Bob Ringwald
www.ringwald.com
Amateur (ham) Radio Operator K6YBV
916/ 806-9551

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