Courtney Pine whisked audiences away from a dreary Ottawa day to a beach party somewhere in the Caribbean with his jovial music at Ottawa Jazz Festival.
Pine led his band on clarinet with unceasing energy, and the band easily followed. Samuel Dubois pounded the steel drums in a melodic percussion that rang out across the studio in the National Arts Centre, even bringing some of the seated audience to dancing in their seats.
The band didn’t just play the music of the Caribbean, they wore it all over themselves. Pine’s dreadlocks reached down to his waist, and his band was clad in bright fabrics. As they played, they moved around the stage, smiling and laughing.
They opened with a carnivalesque tribute to Claudia Jones, the journalist and political activist who turned an impending race riot in Notting Hill into a carnival for civil rights in 1966. Pine explained that this carnival is still the biggest carnival in Europe to this day.
Pine was able to channel the carnival energy into himself and his audience, as he controlled them wordlessly with his clarinet.
In the middle of a jam, he managed to coerce the crowd into a call and response of “Pop Goes the Weasel” without saying a single word, simply gesturing with one hand and playing melodies on his clarinet.
The songs and lengthy improvised jams blended together seamlessly, interrupted only by Pine’s quips.
“I’m from Little Britain,” said a smiling Pine, “and you know how reserved they are. So you can imagine how they respond to this music over there.”
He worked more laughs from the audience when the entire band dropped out and Pine played a solo on the keys of his clarinet, without sending any air through. After a few bars of rhythmic clicking on his keys, he stopped and looked at the crowd.
“What song is that?” he asked, much to the amusement of the crowd.
Without missing a beat, he and the band jumped into a rendition of Dave Brubeck’s classic “Take Five.” Only it didn’t sound like an arrangement or cover, but instead seemed to be the song’s wild, long lost cousin.
The song’s famous laid back saxophone hook was played with energy and enthusiasm by Pine, while his band replaced the traditional piano backing with steel drums and guitar.
Each member of the band got to showcase their solo chops on several occasions as well, and Pine happily gave props to each one after they finished their solo. When all but the bass had gotten a chance, Pine stepped up to the mic.
“I think it’s time for a bass solo,” he said, allowing Vidal Montgomery to break into an extended solo on his electric upright.
Pine’s entire show was simply a party, put on by people who had nothing but sheer love for the music they play.
