All Jazzed Up

It’s the wee small hours of the morning, and I still can’t sleep. In the velvety hush of
my room, no one would know it, but a jazz band in my head is swinging through yet another chorus of Night in Tunisia, and the drummer is about to take a solo. That’s what four hours of hopping Portland’s jazz joints can do to a girl.

On an early weeknight — when most towns won’t come alive for days — I can hear drummer Mel Brown’s spectacular septet at Jimmy Mak’s at 8:00, drop by another club to catch a set with scat queen Nancy King about 10, and cap off the evening with pianist Ramsey Embick’s trio at the Blue Monk ’round midnight.

And it only gets better as the week goes on. Know where to go, and you’ll find live jazz seven nights a week. What you won’t find are big, flashy clubs with matching attitudes.

A healthy number of venues and robust population of premier musicians provide the energy for Portland’s low-profile, high-quality jazz scene. “We’re sort of a best-kept secret,” says Brown, the bandleader and drum impresario. He’s a longtime Motown artist who toured with The Temptations and The Supremes before giving up the peripatetic life to play jazz and teach young players.

“It’s my dream come true,” says Brown, who holds court Tuesdays through Thursdays with three different ensembles at Jimmy Mak’s.

Make that my dream come true. The startling thing about jazz here is that it’s just so good. And so accessible. On an ordinary weeknight, I can walk into the Brasserie Montmartre — a bistro featuring live jazz every night of the week — and sit within feet of world-renowned players such as bassist David Friesen or guitarist John Stowell.

It’s also worth seeking out King, a vocalist with a rare improvisational gift for transforming familiar and obscure standards. Frequently compared to Ella Fitzgerald for her scat wizardry, King and pianist Steve Christofferson regularly tour yet also play locally often enough that faithful fans are on a first-name basis. A dreamy, wistful version of There’ll Be Another Spring, for example, can leave a room spellbound for several seconds after the last consonant has faded — until someone finally breaks the silence to whisper “Thank you.”

There’s a similar sense of intimacy all around town. At the Benson Lobby Court on a Thursday, I sit under chandeliers on an overstuffed couch while saxophonist Lee Wuthenow offers to play my request. He follows a silky version of Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most with a rueful rendition of I Fall in Love Too Easily that would make Chet Baker weep. All this, and no cover.

But the ultimate insider experience is Monday nights at the Produce Row Café, where amateurs and professionals mix it up at Ron Steen’s Jazz Jam, the oldest public session in town. On one Monday, smooth jazz pioneer Tom Grant is at the piano, filling out the house trio with bassist Phil Baker and drummer Steen.

If you’ve ever wondered where aspiring jazz musicians get their chops, this is it, the informal college of jazz. For the next three hours, aspiring singers, saxophonists and other instrumentalists sit in as the trio revolves and evolves.

You never know who will show up or what will happen, but the music is always good — and frequently spellbinding.

Guitarist Dan Faehnle often drops in to play and catch up with friends from his Portland days, when he’s not touring with Diana Krall, that is. Bassist Ben Wolfe, who has played with Krall, Wynton Marsalis and Harry Connick Jr., has also been known to make an appearance.

On a recent visit, I arrive just in time to catch Portland-based vocalist Rebecca Kilgore making a rare local appearance between gigs in Florida and Blackpool, England. A frequent guest artist on National Public Radio’s Fresh Air with Terry Gross, Kilgore is getting a little informal rehearsal in with Steen’s trio for an upcoming all-star jazz gala at the Oregon Convention Center. For Kilgore, it’s a pleasure to play her hometown.
“The level of musicianship here is very high,” Kilgore says. “There’s a fraternity here that I like.”