One can find in Charles Lloyd the intersection of music and spirituality, and Friday night at the Lobero Theater, he issued a heartfelt update from the frontier.
Like the century-old Lobero, National Endowment for the Arts Jazz Master Lloyd is a local treasure.
In introducing Lloyd to the stage, his old friend, former manager, and local impresario Steve Cloud gave a succinct summation Lloyd’s career thus far:
Born in Memphis, played on the local scene, moved to LA and got involved with the best musicians there, put together a band with Keith Jarrett, Cecil McBee, and Jack DeJohnette, and conquered with world of 60’s jazz with the best-selling Forrest Flower, retreated into seclusion in Big Sur, came out of that phase to help further the career of pianist Michel Petrucciani, and resumed his career since then performing at the highest level.
This year, he was named artist of the year and won album of the year for his latest Blue Note release, “The Sky Will Still Be There Tomorrow,” in the Downbeat Magazine’s Reader’s poll.
The March 14 concert, a celebration of Lloyd’s 87th birthday, was like a homecoming, with a full house of attentive and appreciative supporters, who greeted him with a standing ovation before a note was played.
I’m a relative newcomer to Lloyd’s music; I’ve only been listening for about 25 years. I’m a bit chagrined that I can’t reel off the names of the song performed, but for me that’s besides the point of a Charles Lloyd concert.
I’m not expecting a list of hits and familiar changes. I’m hoping for revelation of the beauty of the moments shared in the hall, and on Friday night Lloyd once again opened a window into that awareness.
Accompanied by Kennedy Center Artistic Director for jazz, pianist Jason Moran, and guitarist Marvin Sewell, in his Lobero debut, Lloyd opened the show and set the mood with a slow, contemplative selection, in front of a shifting display of his wife Dorothy Darr’s art.
Lloyd’s spiritual quest has long been ongoing. And that quest has always deeply inspired and informed his music. But as more and more of his contemporaries pass into the beyond, that quest has seemingly become more urgent.
It was only in December that master percussionist Zakir Hussien, Lloyd’s collaborator in Sangam, a trio who debuted at The Lobero in 2004, passed away.
Moran’s ringing, echoing piano, Sewell’s chiming guitar harmonics, and Lloyd’s distinctive keening and burbling tenor sax work evoked an iridescent, beautiful emptiness. A thoughtful question, left unanswered.
Lloyd and Moran have collaborated many times and seem to have a supernaturally shared sense of harmonics.
Sewell’s contributions supported that, with particular sympatico with Moran’s almost classical chordal sophistication.
Then, when a couple of numbers in Lloyd took a seat and Sewell switched from Telecaster to Stratocaster for a slide excursion, he brought the Delta into the equation, while also bringing in Eastern flavors with a Sitar-like sound that reminded me of Derek Trucks’ similar explorations.
Lloyd’s sunny flute work on the basic blues was light as a feather, and it all made for a carefree respite from contemplation.
From there the sound became more exploratory. It’s my perception that Lloyd’s interest in existence includes a curiosity about vibrations and their effect on being; both the vibrations of sound and of light.
At one point, Moran produced sustained shimmering waves of bass with his left hand, like a turbulent ocean over which Lloyd’s sax soared. The effect was transfixing.
Waves of applause and a standing ovation from the appreciative crowd brought Lloyd out for his encore and some soprano work.
My wife spotted Bernstein and Sondheim’s “Somewhere” from West Side Story, but one needn’t have known the lyric to feel the yearning.
The encore included a spoken-word consideration of achieving oneness and tranquility. While it might be said that ugliness has as much value as beauty, I am once again humbled by and grateful for the transcendent beauty of Charle Lloyd’s music.
Happy Birthday, Maestro, and many more.