The Songbirds Archives

Jazz singers rarely receive this kind of opulent, lush, orchestral treatment anymore. At least not in the United States. That’s why Nancy Marano had to travel to more jazz-friendly climes to realize her and arranger Manny Albam’s vision for their new album. And so, in mid-1998 and again late last year, Albam charts in tow, she hopped a plane for Hilversum Holland for studio dates with the Netherlands Metropole Orchestra. The result: If You Could See Us Now.

Today the expense connected with bringing off, in the U.S., a project like this new Koch Jazz release – a fully-constituted string section on hand at all times – would be out of question for all but the very biggest of mega-pop singers. Most European countries continue to subsidize various state studio and radio orchestras, and Holland is no exception. The NMO, founded in 1945, makes live appearances at such events as the North Sea Jazz Festival, in addition to its radio and television performances.

This is a musical meeting of the minds between two of the most esteemed practitioners in their respective fields. Marano has been called a singer’s singer; however, that label reeks of the cold and clinical. She is anything but that. Let’s just say that Marano comes to work ready to hunker down. Her preparedness is part and parcel of her "day job" of jazz educator at the Manhattan School of Music and New Jersey’s William Paterson College. She possesses a tone that is warm, buttery and hip, but not self-consciously so.

Manny Albam is one of the grand old men of modern jazz arranging. How can he not be when his name appears in the most heavily thumbed reference work on my bookshelf, Leonard Feather’s 1955 edition of The Encyclopedia of Jazz? To whit: "Albam, Emmanuel ‘Manny’, baritone sax; arranger; b. Samana, Dominican Republic, 6/24/22. To New York at age of six weeks. Played w. Bob Chester 1941; Geo. Auld, ‘42-3; Army, ‘45-6; Charlie Barnet, 1949. Arrs. incl. ‘Claude Reigns’ for Barnet; ‘Slow But Sure’ for Basie; ‘Minor Diversion’ for Kenton; ‘Byplay’ for Woody Herman; and ‘Mood Indigo’ for Charlie Ventura, etc."

On certain tracks the sheer number of musicians employed brings to mind "The Symphonic Ellington: Duke Ellington and His Orchestra and 500 of Europe’s Finest Musicians." Not all at one time mind you. In that way lies musique concrete at best, and chaos at worst. But enough players – 60 – to give the album that big, fat, Euro-studio jazz "sound." Of course, it would all be for naught if it didn’t possess that elusive quality known as swing. And swing this album surely does, booted along by the fact that most of the tracks were cut "live" and in real time.

If You Could See Us Now doesn’t test Marano’s unqualified mettle as an improviser. One cannot afford to play fast and loose with the musical equivalent of World War III going off behind you. Her approach here is prescribed by advance knowledge of Albam’s charts, and is a complement to them. There is, however, a highly spontaneous moment on the album that is classic: a witty gloss on the jazz tradition of trading fours wherein Marano and the band exchange riffs on Cheek to Cheek. Except Marano goes first with the sound of surprise, and several dozen players follow her lead. Then, just as it threatens to spin off into the aleatory ether, she returns to the bridge and the players get their musical ducks back in a row.

The repertoire is more or less evenly divided between balladry and flag-wavers; and consists of all evergreens, save two. Duncan Lamont’s Carousel, which, to put it charitably, will never become a part of the Great American Songbook; the "spinning carousels," "candy floss and ice cream" induce mal de mer. Meanwhile, Jimmy Rowles’ The Peacocks (with lyrics by Norma Winstone) which does have a good shot at standard-hood.

Albam is fond of tempi shifts, and utilizes them throughout. They add a loose feeling to the mammoth proceedings. The overall effect is akin to driving a Maserati on an eight-lane freeway, the scenery whizzing by, then taking an off-ramp for a relaxing closer look at the landscape, then back up to 100 m.p.h. in no time flat. Speak Low begins up-tempo, goes into a rubato mode, and toward the end retards to a pastoral fadeout. On Billy Strayhorn’s A Flower is a Lovesome Thing, Albam extends some of the measures to allow the orchestra to have more of a say in "answering" Marano. In the final statements, the slowing of tempo is achieved by doubling the note values of Strayhorn’s melody. On The Thrill Is Gone, acceleration is gained by halving the note values of the melody.

This is not the kind of date where a singer goes into the studio sketchily prepared only to stand out in front doing his or her thing, taking into account, but little, what’s going on instrumentally, while the band wails away. If You Could See Us Now is definitely not background music. Repeated listenings are required. Long hours of pre-recording collaboration between singer and arranger went into the making of this sort-of "Concerto for Jazz Voice and Orchestra." In this regard it is remindful of the classic collaboration between Michel Legrand and Sarah Vaughan where the voice was an integrated part of the ensemble. Every last musical widget and grommet had to be in place before Marano and Albam could take off on their collaborative journey. This is not an album of 3:13 cuts; most tracks hover around the six minute mark and are worth of every second of the changes rung on the material.

A slight quibble. Increasingly, jazz-based singers needlessly rely upon scat to telegraph the idea that they are indeed the genuine article. Marano is no exception. But this form of expression is not her strong suit. Her solo scat choruses sound written out and not terribly off the top of her head. The scatting on "The Thrill is Gone" sounds especially deliberate. There is more to the technique than merely one-syllable sounds that begin with a consonant.

Although it’s unusual for singer and arranger to share co-billing, Marano and Albam’s names both appear above the album’s title. It’s a felicitous fit between the two. In Mssrs. Carles, Clergeat, and Comolli’s Dictionaire du Jazz Albam’s work is described as "simple, functional, placed humbly at the service of the soloist. Capable of galvanizing musicians and helping them express swing and purpose." I rest their case.

Nancy Marano

Netherlands Metropole Orchestra

Koch Jazz