Peter Cincotti's DC Debut 1/31/03

Alan Greenblatt

How do you translate buzz from one city to another? A year ago, Peter Cincotti, then 18, played a month-long engagement at the Algonquin that won him such adulatory praise he can count on being a fixture on the New York scene for decades. But, having ambitions beyond the little island of Manhattan, Concord Records, which will release Cincotti's first CD in March, is sending him out to tour in front of people who have some hope of advancing the word on his talent.

Cincotti performed last week at the Bohemian Caverns in front of a small audience of label folks, club bookers, radio and XM radio people and a few lonely press scribes. Playing piano and singing with a trio, Cincotti showed why he is such a phenomenon. He trades unabashedly on the gimmick of his extreme youth. He's handsome (although he wore a pinky ring) and has an agreeable baritone with a rapid little quiver at the end of phrases. He enunciates clearly and shows more feeling for old songs like "Miss Brown to You" than other latter-day interpreters such as, say Linda Ronstadt. He's also a tremendous piano player, showing off his chops in a rambunctious, knowing tribute to Erroll Garner on "After You've Gone."

Having said all that, I'm not sure I'd rush out to pay money to hear him in person or on CD. His singing style is quite derivative, a deeply felt tribute to the stylings of the Rat Pack. He's not annoyingly imitative like Harry Connick, Jr. He just doesn't bring to bear much new thought on old material. His original songs aren't bad but not thrilling either.

I'm always glad when a record company is willing to put its money behind someone with real feeling and affection for the old songs. I don't begrudge Diana Krall, Jane Monheit or Norah Jones their success. And it's hard to even argue that there are a lot of other neglected singers who do this material better. There certainly are some, but lack of official endangered species protection has made folks like Carol Sloane and Donna Byrne pretty scarce.

In Cincotti's case, I'll be glad to hear him when he's a little older. In the meantime, I guess he's going to be a big deal. Even locally, he's already booked into the Barns of Wolf Trap in April and the Kennedy Center in September.

As for the Bohemian Caverns, now there's a neglected space. The old space, with its fake stalagtites and padded tree stump seats, had such wonderful bookings, for about five minutes, when it reopened a couple of years ago. Since then, I've wondered how they make it, with underattended weekend shows by locals and cigar and beer tasting nights that don't attract anyone either. It's not the club's fault but somehow I felt it was emblemmatic of its fortunes that even when the show was free and Concord Records was paying for the drinks the place was maybe a third full.

The same was true up in New York a couple of weekends ago, when we went to hear a pair of Friday night sets by the Classical Jazz Quartet at the Iridium in midtown. I was terribly flattered when some of you told me you actually followed my CD recommendations to fill Christmas stockings, including the CJQ's Bach record. Let me say, briefly, that they sound even better in person.

Using tunes by Bach, Rachmaninoff and themselves as jumping off points, the CJQ put on a swinging display of mainstream jazz. Many vibes players seem to stand and pound at a few favorite notes, but Stefon Harris roams his instrument in search of new combinations that are bluesy and moving. Pianist Kenny Barron showed again why he is a top player, with solos that were always clean in their execution, his thoughts forcefully executed without any distracting clutter. Bassist Rufus Reid has a big fat sound and drummer Lewis Nash was also spare.

All of these were guys who knew how to get their points across without a lot of fuss and took obvious pleasure in playing off each other's ideas. Classic jazz, in other words. But, again, no more than a couple of dozen people per set. Maybe New Yorkers are spoiled.