MUSIC-USA: Jazz World’s ‘First Lady of Song’

By Farhan Haq Reprint | | Print |

NEW YORK, Mar 3 1998 (IPS) - When Ella Fitzgerald died on Jun. 15, 1996, there were some in the music world who felt that a large part of the tradition of jazz singing had also perished.

One of them was Paris-based vocalist Dee Dee Bridgewater, who says that, when she heard the news of her favourite singer’s death, “I was filled with such a profound sadness that it almost frightened me.”

Nevertheless, Bridgewater has gone on to pay a tribute to Fitzgerald’s music that makes a powerful argument that jazz singing is alive and well, after all. Bridgewater’s new album, ‘Dear Ella’ (on Verve Records) won a Grammy Award last month for best jazz vocal performance – a fitting reward for an opus that does so much to remember the woman known as the ‘First Lady of Song’.

‘Dear Ella’ consists of 12 remakes by Bridgewater and an all- star band of Fitzgerald’s best-known hits, and the title song, an elegy written by guitarist Kenny Burrell, which has an endearing sincerity that makes up for its clumsy lyrics: “With your bearing so regal/ Your voice strong and true/ You gave us a standard met only by a few.”

The band includes such jazz stalwarts as Dee Dee’s ex-husband Cecil Bridgewater, who arranges several of the songs; expert trombonist and arranger Slide Hampton; and Fitzgerald’s own accompanist and ex-husband, Ray Brown. Dee Dee Bridgewater especially gives credit to Brown for the project’s conception, saying that “it’s due to Ray’s insistence that this album was realised, because I was one scared chicken.”

Bridgewater may be intimidated to step into Fitzgerald’s shoes, but in fact she has for years been – as her predecessor was – the most adept vocalist for re-interpreting old standards.

Although Bridgewater lives in Paris and scarcely puts out records in the United States, her recent concerts and albums, including songs based on the music of pianist Horace Silver, have shown her skill at singing everything from hushed ballads to energetic be-bop classics.

Like Fitzgerald, Bridgewater relies on clear diction and phrasing and an unfailing ear for melody. Her songs bounce and bubble with an enthusiasm rare in the lounge-oriented modern jazz world, combining a breezy, innocent charm with a love for the sophisticated wordplay of showtunes and other pop standards.

Those traits are on ample display in Bridgewater’s versions of Fitzgerald’s ouvre, from upbeat renditions of novelty tunes like the 1938 hit ‘A-Tisket, A-Tasket’ and the 1936 big band tune ‘If You Can’t Swing It, You’ll Have to Sing It (Mr Paganini)’ to more stately ballads like ‘Midnight Sun’.

Some of the songs recall other vocalists besides Fitzgerald.

‘My Heart Belongs to Daddy’, one of Cole Porter’s cynical looks at materialism, has become linked to Marilyn Monroe over the years; while ‘How High the Moon’, a jumpy and appealing be-bop tune, recalls another legendary vocalist, Sarah Vaughan.

The star of the show, however, is Dee Dee Bridgewater. She artfully sings short, staccato bursts of words to convey her annoyance at the wavering lover described in ‘Undecided’: “First you say you will, and then you won’t/ Then you say you do, and then you don’t/ You’re undecided now, so what are you goin’ta do?”

She can just as easily take an otherwise corny song, like ‘(I’d Like to Take You on a) Slow Boat to China’, and make it sound convincing and sincere.

With the recent deaths of Vaughan, Fitzgerald and Carmen McRae, Bridgewater complains, the pickings for “traditional jazz singing” have become slim. But her own work shows that there are still enough practitioners left to continue that tradition.