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Sullivan Fortner sauntered into the modern and elegant Hatch Recital Hall unceremoniously on June 20, scrolling on his phone and then sitting at the piano bench with a slight slouch.
“I hate going first,” he muttered candidly into his microphone with a slight smile.
Fortner played one of the first Club Pass Series shows on the first day of the Jazz Fest, but pretended like he was going last. Following his exceedingly relaxed entrance, he then set audience expectations low by talking about how he hasn’t played piano in a week. Too busy with other projects and other instruments. If anyone leaves the set because of his piano playing, he says he doesn’t blame them. A handful of chuckles pass over the room, the audience seemingly unprepared for this New Orleans pianist to seize the recital hall with his relaxed impulse and explorative spirit.
Fortner started with Jelly Roll Morton’s “The Cave,” or an attempt at Jelly Roll Morton’s “The Cave,” as he calls it. The tango begins as relaxed as Fortner’s entrance, with his fingers jauntily dancing on the keys while he colors in the tune with chordal harmonies. However, as the song continues, Fortner becomes increasingly intense and spirited. He drives the tune forward with rapid piano runs punctuated by his own vocal exclamations. The evolution from the relaxed and gentle Fortner to the one that is practically attacking the piano with incomprehensible runs and intuitive tempo changes resulted in an enrapturing musical interest curve.
It is pretty difficult as a pianist to use all the parts of the piano. As one of the most versatile instruments, it has infinite possibilities—all of which Fortner explored throughout his set. He strummed the strings from the inside, he used the range of all 88 keys, and he could change the volume of his key strikes from soft to loud in an instant. He could lay down a repeating one-note rhythm with one hand, reach into the piano to mute the string he’s playing with his other hand, and then all of a sudden, he has somehow grown a third hand and is developing melodies and harmonies over that rhythm.
Even more chaotic than “The Cave (An Attempt)” was one of Fortner’s own compositions: a piece dedicated to an anxiety-inducing ex-girlfriend that was originally called “Anxiety,” until his current girlfriend implored him to change it to “It’s A Game.” The piece starts simply, with an understated melody and a central rhythm. It feels off-the-cuff or even improvised, but again, Fortner takes the song in completely unexpected directions as he starts throwing in unexpected and creative chord voicings and harmonies. He transforms the song into a sandbox and crafts the music into whatever he wants, throwing ideas on top of each other so rapidly that it is a marvel to see it all fit in together.
His set continued with a beautiful rendition of Stevie Wonder’s “Golden Lady,” the cinematic, classically influenced, and Fortner-penned “Snakes and Ladders,” and a gorgeous rendition of the jazz standard “My One and Only Love” which evoked a couple audible “wows” from the audience.
Even though he finds no joy in going first, Fortner was a fantastic start to the first day at the Jazz Fest. While leaving Hatch Recital Hall, many people stated that they planned to see him play again the next day.
The most memorable comment: “I need a break. I feel like I’ve been music-ed out for like half an hour.”
Returning to the festival for her consecutive year, Ekep Nkwelle cascaded opening night with a rush of rich vocal jazz: soothing to the soul and lush to the ears. Accompanied by an instrumental trio of keys, upright bass, and drums, Nwelle’s Cameroonian heritage and deep spirituality guided her performance throughout her hour at Kilbourn Hall.
As she sang of a land of milk and honey, the honey flowed through her rich and sweet vocals, which were dark and grounded. As she shifted into hymns of “His Eye is on the Sparrow” and other songs testament to her Christian faith, she lifted her lips as if the bird herself, high flying and yet still driven by the winds within her. Nkwelle’s performance became a conversation: with herself, with her ensemble, with the audience as she welcomed the crowd to a series of call-and-response melodies.
Along with her own riffings and improvisations throughout the night, Nkwelle’s percussive trio filled the hall with spirited smooth piano, twanging low bass, and crystalline cymbals and drums. While the crowd stayed transfixed, the quartet moved together, bouncing in and out of the way to give each other the room to groove.
Even further, Nkwelle gave room for the audience to imagine from the sound: to envision a peaceful and future place for themselves guided by the music. One with a core of connection, community, and a strong sense of gratitude to lead with for the remainder of the evening.
It’s not a music festival without some lineup changes, and thankfully the Dan Wilson Organ Trio was able to step in when the Mark Whitfield Group could no longer make it to play their set at Temple Theater. With Dan Wilson leading the trio on guitar, David Throckmorton on drums, and Clifford Barnes on the organ, this group moved through their set with seamless synergy and non-stop grooves. Even when Throckmorton’s drum pedal started malfunctioning and he had to adjust it mid-song, using his foot to keep time on the hi-hat and periodically contributing fills with his free hand sans drumsticks, the group never faltered in their persistent collaboration. It did lead to a suspenseful moment, though, which ended in Throckmorton fixing the pedal back to the bass drum just in time to finish the first song.
Wilson would later rename the band “technical difficulties” as Throckmorton had to adjust his pedal more after the first tune wrapped up. Usually, hiccups like that would shake up a band’s set, but the Organ Trio continued on effortlessly. Even more cool was the trio’s rendition of “Caravan” by Juan Tizol and Duke Ellington, a jazz standard with an exotic twist that took the audience on a journey through Wilson’s ornate guitar licks. Fans of the movie “Whiplash” might know this song for its legendary and technically demanding drum solo, and while the group did diverge from the original composition to make it their own, Throckmorton’s fiery performance on the drums surely did not disappoint.
The trio ended with an unexpected closer: “Change the World,” which was made popular by Babyface and Eric Clapton. The trio immediately locked into an incredibly infectious groove, which had waves of audience members dramatically nodding their heads to the beat. They found a pocket where each member filled in the spaces left by the others, making this last piece a representation of the talent onslaught that can be found in a trio like this one.
The music continued at The Duke with Ruta Di—a Lithuanian-born and London-based guitarist and singer stylizing much of her work after Brazilian jazz. Taking the stage in a sunshine-yellow dress, she was joined by peers on electric guitar and drums, a more contemporary setup compared to the night’s earlier ventures. A composer and songwriter as well as an instrumentalist, Di enveloped the hour with a swell of her own arrangements and tracks, many of which are from her 2022 album “Yellow Summer”. Her work bounced between style and sentiment—the rush and rhythm of bossa nova, the almost psychedelic effect of wah-pedaling and reverb, the twisted turns from Di’s deep library of guitar presets that shaped her songs like promethean clay. Yet, all linked back to her psyche: memories of little surprises, fights with family, and the experience of liking two guys or two girls at once (which not many in the crowd seemed to relate to, by a show of hands).
A section of syllabic vocal jazz was one spurred by the death of Di’s grandmother, a grief which brought her to compose yet found itself beyond what words could say. Shining like the colorful fluorescent lights that outlined the stage, Di’s simple reflections of the profound moments of life provided a bright start to the festival weekend.
This was just the first of nine jazz-filled days in downtown Rochester. For the Beacon’s Jazz Fest coverage, click here.
Alex Holly is a student at the University of Rochester and a member of the Oasis Project’s second cohort. Jess Williams is a Beacon contributing writer and former intern.
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