Reeves makes everything old new again
Before you heard Dianne Reeves in Confederation Park Wednesday night, you probably thought you knew how the Fleetwood Mac hit Dreams went. How about the Peter Gabriel song In Your Eyes, or that old jazz tune Stormy Weather?
Reeves, the four-time Grammy winner, made you think again. Thanks to forward-thinking and funky arrangements, and her own majestic voice and presence, these and other songs were reinvented and made to sound new again.
She and her powerhouse group made vivid, exuberant music that was always creative but highly accessible, upbeat and entertaining, too.
After all, who couldn’t be lifted up by the sheer force of Reeves’ voice, its rich, swoon-inducing timbre, her soaring range, and her go-for-it attitude when she bent melodies to her will and improvised scat solos?
Reeves is someone who can sing and freestyle at length her introduction of her band members, turning it into a tour-deforce of wit, soul and groove. In fact, before her concert ended, that’s just what she did, accompanied by a killing reggae-funk jam.
Reeves made a diva’s entrance, amid a swell of synthesized swings and cascading piano work from virtuoso Geoffrey Keezer. The band slid into Dreams, which was recast as a neo-soul showstopper.
Gabriel’s In Your Eyes received a similar kind of makeover, and it allowed Reeves to make another grand, big-voiced statement.
Bob Marley’s Waiting In Vain kept its reggae lilt, grounded by the unbeatable team of bassist Reginald Veal and drummer Terreon Gully, but was broadened to allow for jazz expression.
Older jazz tunes weren’t ignored in favour of more con- temporary material. But they were given a thorough scrub, too.
Stormy Weather was modernized with a top-to-bottom harmonic renovation. Before Reeves made her entrance, her band pulled out the stops on the funkiest version ever of George Gershwin’s Summertime.
Perhaps because guitarist Romero Lubambo is Brazilian, Reeves also played Tom Jobim’s lovely song Triste, but with more fidelity to its bossa nova origins.
But for a song with lyrics that end with “Sad is to live in solitude,” the rendition sounded and felt pretty jubilant.
But then, positivism is what Reeves delivers — in the extreme. By the end of her show, she had many in the park on their feet, clapping and swaying, even singing a prolonged, droning note beneath her own inventions.
“Let me show how magical that note is,” Reeves sang. The captivated people probably didn’t need much persuading.