Sound of Blackness
By Kalamu ya Salaam of Kalamu.com
Don’t do like I did. Don’t sleep on the far-ranging and deeper-than-deep talent of Dianne Reeves.
Long time ago, I acquired one of Dianne’s CD entitled Art + Survival. As far as I was concerned, this was the pinnacle of her work. A beautiful marriage of insightful and socially aware content with exquisite artistry.
This was about "art" in a commercially-oriented pop world and about "survival" within an oppressive and exploitative society. This was an amazing recording.
Dianne’s voice is breathtaking in both its sustained beauty, especially on the ballads and in the gambits she dares. She successfully takes tremendous risks with her vocal technique, and each time hits the mark on point.
And content-wise, this is a Nina Simone type statement. Bold, completely forward, no apologies and no prisoners taken. Ms Reeves is a full out bad, beautiful strong Black woman.
And I guess, paradoxically, the brilliance of Art + Survival blinded me and kept me from fully appreciating the full range of her greatness. I would listen to a few other of Dianne’s albums, but none of the ones I heard had the social consistency and total artistic daring of Art + Survival. So I cherished the one CD and only occasionally would dip into the others. But that was a mistake that caused me to overlook Art + Survival’s live twin - New Morning.
Born October 23, 1956 in Detroit but raised in Denver by her grandmother, Dianne’s first major recognition as a jazz artist came from trumpeter Clark Terry who was impressed when he heard her sing in a high school band in 1974. Terry became her mentor.
In 1976, Dianne started a long apprenticeship, working first with Eduardo del Barrio in his Latin band Caldera. Dianne also worked with pianist Billy Childs and had a stint singing with Sergio Mendes. From 1983 to 1986, she toured with Harry Belafonte as a lead singer. In 1987, she was the first vocalist to sign to Blue Note Records.
Beginning with her album In The Moment in 2001, Dianne Reeves achieved what no other vocalist has ever done: a string of three successive Grammys for best jazz vocalist. In 2006 she picked up a fourth Grammy for her soundtrack album Good Night, And Good Luck. She is perennially picked as the best living jazz vocalist.
"The powerful but mellow alto of Ms Reeves wafts through the film, as ubiquitous and atmospheric as the smoke from Murrows' cigarettes," says The New York Times.
As far as I am concerned, her only competition as a jazz vocalist is Cassandra Wilson and I feel fortunate that I live in a time period when both are performing and recording. A recent review of her recording catalogue finds me leaning toward Dianne as a pure jazz vocalist.
Three characteristics stand out for me. First is the beauty of her instrument. Like they say in Latin, it’s “alter,” which means both high and deep—a perfect definition of her range and the way she uses her voice. “One More Time” and “Anthem” are evidence enough to convince any skeptic.
Second, Dianne Reeves is a conscious artist, deeply spiritual (“Old Souls”) and also socially concerned (“Endangered Species”). Dianne is an artist who has remained on the frontlines throughout a long and distinguished career. It takes a tremendous amount of commitment to stay strong for as long as she has.
Third is her deep embrace of Latin American and African traditions. You hear it leaping out of her music at a level usually only achieved by instrumentalists of the highest caliber. It’s not just the rhythms, it’s also the lyrics. She is a direct descendant of Dizzy Gillespie responding to Chano Pozo with Afro-Cuban religious chants. Dianne has obviously studied the Afro-religious music and not just the popular music of the