Chuck Redd at Blues Alley, Washington DC

by Alan Greenblatt

Inveterate readers of this column are familiar with the name Chuck Redd. One of the best drummers in the D.C. area, and in the realm of swing in general, Chuck occasionally emerges from behind his kit to take the lead of a band as vibes player, as he did Tuesday night before a small but appreciative crowd at Blues Alley.

As a melodist, Redd is not the most daring improviser. He confidently states a theme, such as Burton Lane's "How About You," then gentley bends it around itself, enlivening his minor variations through a couple of choruses with a heightened rhythmic drive.

At this performance, Chuck was greatly aided by the piano work of his brother Robert Redd, whose way of finishing off Chuck's phrases made them sound more full. Robert would throw in a sudden blues lick to keep Chuck honest, and Chuck, who wore the hunched posture and and cast of mouth of Ed Sullivan, would turn around at him and smile.

Their mom was in the audience, and musicians always play better in front of their parents. There were a half-dozen heavily smoking Japanese tourists sitting near the front who made up half the crowd and, although I didn't get the sense that they felt they were hearing the latest stateside breakthroughs in the music, but they certainly didn't look disappointed, either.

Drummer Harold Mann at the Corcoran Gallery of Art

The next day at the Corcoran Gallery of Art, another quartet of good local musicians took the stage for the gallery's regular free Wednesday lunchtime jazz show. Playing blues, calypso ("St. Thomas"), a waltz ("Up Jumped Swing") and some ballads, the group led by drummer Harold Mann created an easy sort of Sunday afternoon feel.

Mann has the odd habit of pulling his pantlegs up to around the knee. His drumming was serviceable, totally competent but not daring. Longtime local tenor star Buck Hill was, like Chuck Redd, comfortable simply stating the melody and maybe taking it for a turn or two. The most interesting musicianship was provided by the great bass player Steve Novosel, who gets a wonderfully dark and deep sound out of the instrument -- more than most, I mean -- and is a constantly intelligent player, looking for new ways to propel along the soloists.

These were all musicians who know where to put the silence in.