For a long time Sydney singer Gregg Arthur has had the ambition to present his music in the concert hall. This is the outcome of his belief, entirely well-founded, that many leading Australian vocalists, such as himself, are of such a standard of excellence that they should be heard in the pristine conditions of the concert hall, conditions which are afforded to imported overseas artists. In the case of the City Recital Hall (CRH), Kurt Elling and Cecile McLorin Salvant come to mind: they’ve been presented there in recent times.
Australian vocalists in jazz-related genres, such as Arthur, and other leaders in the field – Vince Jones, Michelle Nicolle, and Tina Harrod for example – have little difficulty filling the small jazz venues available around the country, which seat maybe 150 people. Those artists however, rarely appear in the larger concert halls which may seat up to 1,000 people or more. Why not? It’s a matter of economics, I suppose. Also, there appears to be a built-in expectation that an Australian vocalist – often referred to, and belittled, as a “local” – will not draw a large enough audience to cover costs.
Therefore, Gregg Arthur’s gig at CRH on Saturday April 13 has to be regarded as a brave venture, perhaps against the odds. It challenged some common expectations. It’s gratifying to report that the concert was highly successful, in the sense that the downstairs sections of the hall – described as “the stalls” by CRH officials – were full. Of course, if that downstairs section of the hall had been only, say, half-full, the concert would have to be considered a failure.
Arthur’s purpose at this concert was to present a program of compositions from the Great American Songbook, and to some extent minimise the jazz component of his normal repertoire to that end, in order to appeal to the sort of more middle-of-the road audience which might be alienated by too much overt jazz in the program.
Arthur opened with Cole Porter’s It’s All Right With Me, followed by Stardust (Hoagy Carmichael), and two Jerome Kern compositions, All The Things You Are and The Way You Look Tonight. The set proceeded with Don’t Get Around Much Anymore (Duke Ellington); Nature Boy (Eden Ahbez); Time Flies (Jimmy Webb); Blue Skies (Irving Berlin); My Funny Valentine (Rodgers & Hart); and Caravan (Duke Ellington & Juan Tizol).
What was most noticeable about the music from the first note was the great sound which pianist Peter Locke was able to produce on the Steinway grand. Locke always sounds excellent no matter the context, but his playing on this occasion was especially convincing, underlining how important he is to Arthur’s artistry.
His accompaniment to Arthur’s vocal lines were so uncannily well-integrated that I was reminded of Bill Miller’s accompaniment with Sinatra, and similarly Ralph Sharon’s work with Tony Bennett. Locke’s piano lines throughout the performance were in that class, ineffably boosted by a piano of the highest quality, and beautiful sound given to him by the CRH sound engineers Richard Hundy and Matt Landers.
The performance was certainly a reminder that the combination of Locke, Craig Scott (double bass) and Andrew Dickeson (drums) is one of the finest trios in Australian music. Without exception these three great musicians came to the party, and did everything expected of them. Dickeson in particular showed a gratifying awareness of how to play the drums in the highly-charged acoustics of the concert hall, bringing his volume up only when impact was required.
An unforgettable highlight during the first set was Scott’s signature bass-only accompaniment of Arthur’s version of Nature Boy. Featuring Scott’s unique orchestral sound, this was a show-stopper which drew huge applause.
In most performances of this nature there usually comes a time, in my experience, when it dawns on both the audience and musicians alike that a certain feeling has arrived in the venue: that all is well and it’s time to relax. At this performance that moment arrived, in my view, at the conclusion of Nature Boy, a tour de force delivered with such power by Arthur and Scott that the ice was effectively broken.
This allowed Arthur to pause, and explain to the audience a perhaps necessary truism: that the Great American Songbook did not stop with the Gershwins and the Cole Porters of this world. While the Songbook is generally regarded as consisting of 20th-century American jazz standards, popular songs, and show tunes during the 1920-1950 period, in fact it continued, at least up to the end of the twentieth century, with the advent of more recent great composers such as Burt Bacharach, and of course Jimmy Webb. This enabled Arthur to introduce the little-known Webb tune Time Flies, a lovely tune which has been recorded by Rosemary Clooney.
During the first set, guest saxophonist Craig Walters joined the group for Blue Skies, and remained for the rest of the performance. To be honest I was not enamoured with the initial Walters sound I heard. His tenor saxophone sound was very full, perhaps too full, and out of accord with the lean sounds emanating from all the other musicians onstage. Whether this was a momentary lapse on the part of front-of-house sound engineers, or my own perversity as a listener, remains to be seen. Certainly this conundrum was less noticeable as the evening proceeded. As the performance was being taped, I hope I’ll have an opportunity to listen to the recording to see if my perception in the moment was accurate.
Arthur opened the second set two-out with the pristine accompaniment of electric guitarist Charlie Meadows, performing Summertime. The advent of Meadows was a most welcome innovation with the beautiful sound of his guitar as clear as a bell throughout the venue. Moreover, Meadows’s ability to lay down an exquisite bossa nova feel for the following Jobim composition, Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars, was indispensable and, when the other rhythm section players crept in, a magic moment – even if it was fleeting – was created. This served to bring to life what has become one of Arthur’s signature tunes.
The set proceeded with I Get a Kick Out of You (Cole Porter); What a Difference a Day Makes(written by the Mexican songwriter María Grever, but forever associated with Dinah Washington, whose version won a Grammy); The Girl I Love (a masculine version of the Gershwins’ classic The Man I Love); It Had To Be You (Gus Kahn); with Cole Porter’s Love For Sale closing the programme in climactic style.
Arthur is such a professional singer that I believe he is virtually incapable of a below-par performance. I have reviewed a number of his recent performances, usually in small venues, and invariably have found them faultless. If I had any minor reservations about his approach at this particular concert, they can wait on the forthcoming recording, which I will look forward to.
After Love For Sale’s big ending, there was generous applause which was so extensive that an encore was called for. Arthur, who told the audience he had completed his programme, may not have been prepared for this. He therefore obliged, not with a song from the Great American Songbook, but with one of his own compositions Last Call, an impressive saloon song highly reminiscent of the Sinatra classic One For My Baby (and One More For The Road).
Gregg Arthur finally left the stage to a standing ovation, with the audience still palpably in the mood for more.
