Eric Schneider and Andy Brown were back together again. Last year, while praising the music, I highlighted Schneider’s song introduction shortcomings. Maybe he read my piece, as this year he didn’t even try to tell us any background information, except that he did know that Hoagy Carmichael wrote the song New Orleans, but was from Indiana, which was a prime example of what Schneider thought was funny. I disagreed.

In my opinion, Brown is the better musician of the two. Perhaps I just don’t have a refined ear, but on a couple of occasions, Schneider’s playing this year reminded me of Commander Riker’s trombone issues in Star Trek – just never could hit that note in Nightbird.

Whereas Riker admitted it was his fault, Schneider, at one point, regaled us with his version of the creation of the clarinet, which, according to my research, was maybe 50% accurate, and why therefore it was so hard to play, which, in any event, would not explain the one particularly alarming note that emanated from his saxophone, rousing me from my contemplations in the church courtyard’s idyllic setting.

Still, the rain held off, and thanks to Brown the concert was well worth its free price of admission. I will go back to see him performing solo in a couple weeks.

 

 

 

 

 

Saxophonist Eric Schneider had top billing, well actually the only billing, for the lunch-hour, jazz concert. But he was accompanied by the ever-present, supremely talented, but apparently not talkative, Andy Brown, on guitar, whom I also saw as a featured musician in Michael Feinstein’s recent show at Ravinia, where he didn’t speak either. (I’m waiting for his “Greta Garbo talks” in Anna Christie moment.)

Schneider did the song introductions, showing off at one point the reason why you should not have him on your Broadway trivia (or even essential information) team, as he misrepresented the song Put on a Happy Face as being from Pajama Game, rather than, as the audience members who contorted their faces at the error knew, Bye Bye Birdie.

But I hadn’t come for Schneider’s sober version of drunk jazz history, including his tidbit about the original pronunciation of Mel Torme’s last name (before he gallicized it by adding the aigu accent), but rather for the music, which was excellent.