Concert Review: Paula West at the Rrazz Room

I had the opportunity last night to go see singer Paula West at the Rrazz Room as the guest of guitarist Ed Cherry, and I took it! About a decade ago I attended a class Paula taught at the Jazz Camp Weekend held at Mills College in Oakland. Ever since then I've been a fan, and this show -- only the first week of a seven-week run she'll be doing at the swank San Francisco club with the New York-based George Mesterhazy Quartet -- did not disappoint.

The show began with an instrumental. "This is 'I'm Confessing That I Love You' in Bb," announced Mesterhazy, holding a Melodica which he played with a lyrical touch through the first piece. The young Jerome Jennings on drumset, the ebullient Barak Mori on upright (and later some electric) bass and the aforementioned Cherry (who played with Dizzy Gillespie from 1978 to 1992) had an easy, collaborative spirit and wonderful dynamic range. The band launched into the second tune, New Day Coming, as Paula made her way to the stage. Her rich alto voice is a beautiful instrument all its own, blessed with a lovely vibrato sometimes reminiscent of a young Judy Garland, but also capable of straight tones and rhythmic flair.

The second song, The Beat Goes On, was a seamless transition from the first, and it ended with piano and finger-snaps by all the band members. Finally, Paula spoke to the audience: "The first song I did was inspired by current events," she said, explaining that she'd been in an airport in Tel Aviv during the inauguration and had stood "bawling my eyes out" when she found a TV showing the event. "Really there are only two things to sing about: Affairs of the world or affairs of the heart." With regards to And the Beat Goes On, she explained that the tune, by Sonny Bono, was one "I never thought I'd sing in this room."

West is known for her astute and quirky repertoire choices, as the entire show illustrated. "I have A.D.D. when it comes to musical taste," she joked. The Rodgers and Hart standard A Lady Must Love was followed by Gentle On My Mind, a John Hartford song best known via Glenn Campbell. The band did an effective, full-sounding jazz interpretation of the pop tune's slightly western feel.

With West, you never miss a lyric -- or a verse, those often-neglected introductions to standards. Her selections included Dylan's The Times They Are a Changin', Cole Porter's I'm In Love Again (and later, You've Got That Thing), Brother Can You Spare a Dime, Lennon and McCartney's For No One, and the Nina Simone tune I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free. This she introduced by saying that while the election had been historic, there was still work to be done -- referring to the passage of the anti-gay marriage law in California. As with all her choices, the lyrics were powerful and precise:

I wish I could say
All the things that I should say
Say 'em loud say 'em clear
For the whole round world to hear
I wish I could share
All the love that's in my heart
Remove all the bars
That keep us apart
I wish you could know
What it means to be me
Then you'd see and agree
That every man should be free

In every case, the arrangements by Mesterhazy breathed considerable rhythmic and dynamic life into the evergreen songs. But the moment I absolutely adored was one that showcased what is perhaps Paula West's signature: her incredible breath control.

About midway through the show, she announced they would now do the "oldest song in the set." It was Oh Shanandoah. Her neverending held notes defied possibility, beautifully accompanied by bowed bass. West comes across onstage as she does in person: contained, thoughtful, even reserved. But her repertoire choices perfectly showcase the unique qualities of her voice and the dramatic, often lonely songs that appeal to her. As she drew out the vowels of Shenandoah, flicking the "ah" almost imperceptibly at the end of the word, her face tilted into the light and her eyes glistened. The sadness of the wanderer ("'Tis seven years I've been a rover") was palpable in the room, and I couldn't help thinking of a very different songbird, Edith Piaf, as I watched her pour her heart, unafraid, into those notes.