Chris Botti: Blowing hot and cool

Manila, Philippines -  When watching a Chris Botti concert, it’s best to empty your cup, suspend disbelief and forget all your preconceived notions of what jazz is all about. This isn’t just a jazz gig.

What it is, is a sensory experience — an aural narrative that doubles as a soundtrack to anyone’s ever-changing moods, regardless of musical persuasion. Even the most stoic listener can’t help but be moved by Botti’s effortless mastery.

Where most trumpet players merely push air into those trumpet valves, you could almost swear you can hear Botti’s voice emanating from his horn.

Indeed, depending on how hard or softly he “speaks” into his instrument, Botti never fails to mesmerize his listeners by evoking many moods and textures.

On command, his bugle call can be bold and majestic, reminiscent of the pomp and grandeur of a Strauss march. With a bit more tongue English, his tone can slice through air with a little more edge, swagger and flamboyance — perfect for those funk and R&B-inspired outings.

Pushed to the extreme, his upper register excursions can simulate primal screams, jungle calls, banshee wails and other menacing degrees of dissonance.

A personal favorite, however, is that hauntingly sentimental muted trumpet tone that just drips with pathos. Jazz fans clearly remember this as Miles Davis’ signature tone during his Columbia Records years.

The irony of Botti is that, despite his technical prowess, his solos never become too long-winded or indulgent. Generous to a fault, he gives his sidemen their rightful share of the spotlight, and proudly accords them due credit.

This was written all over his recent two-hour performance at Resorts World Manila’s Newport Performing Arts Theater, organized by Radio High 105.9. Interplay was the operative word, whether swinging furiously through such reharmonized standards as When I Fall In Love, The Very Thought Of You, Somewhere Over The Rainbow, or aiming for a more ambient feel on the classical-tinged pieces Venice, Chopin’s Prelude in C Minor, or Nessum Dorma.

Acoustic pianist Geoffrey Keezer had us hooked from the time he showcased his chops in the outro vamp to When I Fall In Love, injecting blues and gospel-tinged flourishes, pentatonic cascades and chordal stabs that built up to a frenzied crescendo. A solo artist and seasoned sideman in his own right, we can only scratch our head as to why he’s slipped our radar all these years.

Uruguayan guitarist Leonardo Amuedo, recruited from Ivan Lins’ formidable roster, likewise dazzled with his less-is-more fretboard chops. Whether plucking acoustic-simulated tones from his Sadowsky or coaxing searing, overdriven lines from his ES-335, Amuedo’s versatility in all genres makes him a worthy addition to Botti’s band.

While Richie Goods takes credit for holding the fort on bass, special mention goes to drummer Billy Kilson, one of the band’s original members, and whom Sting once remarked as being “the most bad-ass drummer in the world.” Rightfully so, since Kilson can keep a groove going just by flailing away at the hi-hat at whisper-quiet volumes.

Botti (inset, with 11-year-old JP Sta. Ana) never fails to mesmerize his listeners by evoking many moods and textures.

It’s pretty obvious why trumpeter extraordinaire Botti has been anointed as this generation’s likeliest keeper of the jazz torch.

While the title “jazz ambassador” may have been heaped upon him countless times, it falls short of recognizing his more pivotal role as catalyst or chief conspirator. Sure, he has always displayed his virtuosity and allegiance in the jazz and classical idioms throughout most of his career, but he’s also confounded his peers by literally trumpeting his defiance in search of fresh new sounds.

Forever stretching and pushing sonic boundaries, Botti has broadened his palette by embracing pop, rock, country, bossa nova, and at times, even a hint of R&B and hip-hop. This is clearly evident in his latest album, Impressions, under the Sony Music label.

During the show, equally enthralling were the performances of Botti’s special guests: Violinist Aurica Duca, who provided counterpoint to his cleverly-paraphrased melodies on Prelude in C Minor and Nessum Dorma, and vocalist Lisa Fischer, long-time Rolling Stones back-up vocalist.

Interestingly, the reed-thin/supermodel-worthy Duca walked on stage barefoot, while Fischer — a diva in her own right — flaunted her impressive range on I Loves You, Porgy and The Look of Love.

Despite his hectic touring schedule, Botti and his band conducted a workshop the day before his concert. Obviously impressed by one of the local participants, he invited the 11-year-old JP Sta. Ana to join him on stage, where the youngster tooted off his masterful take on Carnival of Venice, before joining Botti and his band on Italia.

Not to be outdone, the opening acts, led by Richard Merk and Verni Varga, were a clear testament to Filipino jazz artistry. Backed up by seasoned honchos Mar Dizon on drums, Elhmir Saison on piano and Roger Herrera on bass, Merk swung with his trademark phrasing, while the ever-sensuous Varga girl — despite a shaky start on Love Dance — redeemed herself with a much-applauded display of vocal histrionics on Take Five.

In closing, while volumes have been written about his musical legacy, perhaps an interesting parallel between the dapper gent and his music can be summed up by an overheard remark after curtain call: “See, it’s just like his hair. You can try messing it up, but it would still look cool.”

That’s Botti’s unmistakable brand of jazz.