Worth the Elbow Jabs
Chris Botti is known as one of the most brilliant forces in contemporary music. A Grammy-winning trumpeter who has played with everyone from Sting to Sinatra, he is currently featured in his 21st holiday residency at the legendary New York jazz club, the Blue Note. And I had never heard his music.
As an NYC transplant of ten years and a lover of good music across many genres—especially when performed live—I am ashamed to say I had never been to the Blue Note before. It’s one of those places everyone has heard of. It’s an institution. But like many icons of this jungle we call home, it is often forgotten by the tourist masses, or reserved for the few locals with money to burn (in this economy?!) who know the city’s best-kept secrets.
Nestled behind the famous basketball courts off the West 4th Street subway stop, the Blue Note was bursting with conversation and music on a snowy Manhattan evening. In true New York style, the stage is crammed into the bottom floor of the building, but the entire place feels inviting. Rows of tables and chairs stretch the length of the space. Patrons can watch from right up front or from seats at the bar. The lounge-bar-restaurant setup gives off more of a cabaret vibe than somewhere you’d go for a nice meal, though they do boast a decent—if slightly overpriced—menu. Buyer beware: on top of your event tickets, there is a $20 per-person consumption minimum, which might feel fair if you could enjoy your food with a bit more elbow room. However, the crowded nature of the evening (though not ideal at dinnertime) is part of what makes the music so enjoyable; we are all together, appreciating the artistry in this impromptu community of like-minded individuals.
Botti arrived onstage in a striped jacket, overflowing with talent, opening with “Deborah’s Theme” and “Someday My Prince Will Come.” His band was made up of Lee Pearson on drums, Barry Stephenson on bass, and promising young pianist Julius Rodriguez. The way Botti nurtures and surrounds himself with incredible musicians onstage—and how he actively listens to each of them play—makes it clear that he truly loves music.
Between numbers, Botti shared anecdotes about the artists he has worked with over the years, and I’m surely not the only one who, for a hot second, thought he was about to bring Ms. Streisand onstage with him.
The setlist was full of fan favorites such as “When I Fall in Love,” “Song for You,” and “Hallelujah.” Special guests included violinist Anastasiia Mazurok, who played spectacular, soaring string notes in “Cinema Paradiso”; vocalist John Splithoff, who crooned “In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning”; and guitarist Gilad Hekselman, who had fun dueling with Botti during his guitar solos, sprinkling entertaining Christmas melodies into “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered.”
It’s difficult to write about music. I am not a musician, nor a poet, and I cannot attempt to describe the precision-yet-playfulness of a jazz professional. If I could do anything, it would be to illustrate this for other “civilians.” But how do I convey a feeling?
From Botti’s first notes, I was taken. His playing oozes the ease, style, and confidence that comes from decades of being the best, and its beauty gives you that feeling in your chest—your heart taking flight, just for a moment. I never thought I’d be serenaded by a trumpet. Stunning, soulful phrases. Tender, held notes. I was captivated. The audience around me echoed my own sighs. I reminded myself that I should wait until the end of the show before forming an opinion, but I was not disappointed. By the end of the set, I was a confirmed fan. Botti sang with that trumpet.
An exceptional experience. A master at work. His music heals something deep inside you.
Chris Botti’s 21st Annual Holiday Residency plays at the Blue Note, 131 W 3rd St., until January 4.
