The
multi-talented Legrand, seventy-three when this concert was
taped, continues to delight. This is a two-part concert,
recorded in Brussels in 2005 on what one assumes was the
same evening. The first part features the Flemish Radio Orchestra
and the second his jazz quartet, though his group is interspersed
amidst orchestral ranks in the first part as well.
The
orchestral film scores are played with the flair one has
come to expect from Legrand and they’re enlivened – and textures
varied – through some fine solo contributions from guest
stars. Hervé Meschinet explores How Do You Keep The Music
Playing, cushioned by orchestral support and discreet
jazz trio (guitar, bass, drums). Legrand conducts with obvious
enjoyment and sympathy. Claude Egéa plays flügelhorn on the
Bond theme Never Say Never Again and trumpet on Dingo
Howl, one of the more recent - and less well known -
scores essayed by its composer. Both soloists join Legrand,
now at the piano, for Les Demoiselles de Rochefort and
Meschinet has one further outing on Summer of ’42. The
classical harpist Catherine Michel stars in a reading of Yentl.
Camera work is broadly
conventional though sometimes a touch busy. There are some
good sectional shots of the orchestra though sometimes things
haven’t quite been timed properly and there’s a scrabble
to find the melody instrument in the band (to be fair this
happens only twice). The notes only refer to Egéa playing
the trumpet, not the flugel. And fans of such things will
note his homage to Dizzy Gillespie in the vertiginously upturned
bell; elsewhere he plays mute, and sounds very much à la
Miles.
Amidst the empty orchestral
chairs Legrand appears with his quartet for Part II, an apposite
selection of Jazz and Chansons. His chops are undimmed by
the years, his spoken intros full of Gallic drollery – his
gag about “my brief career” features twice – and his command
of the keyboard as impressive as ever. His trio features
guitarist Peter Verbraken, bassist Bart Denolf and drummer
Jean-Philippe Komac, all congenial partners. One of the most
beautiful moments occurs in his tribute to the poet and lyricist
Jean Dréjac whose Le Vieux Costume Legrand sings with
touching simplicity. He sings a lot in the second half in
his occasionally strangulated but always wise voice. As a
finale he subjects Les Parapluies de Cherbourg, which
he must have played half a million times, to some dramatic
tempo variants adding a dramatic tango to boot.
An enjoyable concert then
of a still vibrant musician, whose jazz licks are well versed
in bop, and whose heart still beats to the chansons of his
youth.
Jonathan Woolf