McFerrin brings innovation, vocal magic to performance
By Daily Bruin Staff
Feb. 26, 2001 9:00 p.m.
 UCLA Performing Arts The 33-member Saint Paul Chamber
Orchestra performs at UCLA’s Royce Hall, Sunday, Feb. 25, under the
direction of jazz musician Bobby McFerrin.
By Howard Ho
Daily Bruin contributor
Some concerts are good, some are great, and others are, well,
magic.
Bobby McFerrin and the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra’s
Sunday performance at Royce Hall fell squarely into the last
category.
The evening began with McFerrin, known mainly for his jazz work,
conducting the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra in Bizet’s
“L’Arlsienne Suite” and ended with Bizet’s
“Symphony No. 1.” Both pieces were full of subtlety and
wit, qualities that distinguish great conductors.
McFerrin’s wrists and arms seemed to imitate the swanlike
movements of a ballet dancer. His use of a baton called to mind a
painter’s use of a brush, and audience members could almost
picture the orchestra as his canvas, singing the movements of his
body.
The 33-member orchestra produced a rich tone, but still retained
the intimacy and vulnerability that only a chamber orchestra, as
opposed to a 100-member symphony, can provide. No doubt selecting
the works of Bizet, who knew how to orchestrate unique sounds, was
intentional to bring out the ensemble’s vibrancy.
McFerrin, working without a podium, a manuscript or a platform,
contributed to the orchestra’s dynamism and clarity.
The Bizet works, however, were only bookends for the real
essence of the performance. After completing the
“L’Arlsienne Suite,” McFerrin, with the baton
stuck in his braided hair, sat down next to cellist Peter
Howard.
“We’re going to do a piece by Tony Vivaldi,”
said McFerrin, eliciting laughs and bringing the esoteric world of
classical music down to earth.
While the Vivaldi “Concerto in G Minor” was written
for two cellos, McFerrin decided to give one cello part to Howard
and perform the other with his voice.
Pronouncing each note on the syllable “di,” McFerrin
sounded as if he was scatting. His masterful trills and falsettos
only hinted at his enormous talent. In the end, McFerrin
overshadowed Howard, proving that the human voice is still the most
effective musical instrument.
Assuming that it was intermission, the audience rose to exit to
the lobby. McFerrin, however, had just warmed up.
“Sit down,” he commanded.
For the next half hour, McFerrin embarked on a musical journey
that was magical, as if he was the sorcerer’s apprentice in
“Fantasia.” Just as Mickey Mouse turned a broom into
walking water bearers, he turned the classical music audience into
a lively part of the performance.
McFerrin began an improvisational set with double bassist
Christopher Brown and Timothy Paradise on the saxophone and later
the clarinet. McFerrin’s voice matched the saxophone in
warmth and virtuosity. Later McFerrin joined violinist Steven Copes
in a bout of Morrocan-style fiddle-playing.
From Bizet to Vivaldi to jazz, McFerrin had suddenly crossed the
lines and blurred distinctions between musical genres, turning a
night of staid classics into the Playboy Jazz Festival.
Classical music is often anathema to audience participation, but
McFerrin welcomed it. He had the audience harmonize in fifths on a
rhythm while he floated on top with his soothing vocals.
At one point, McFerrin handed his mic to someone in the first
row, asked for the house lights to go up, and came down from the
stage.
McFerrin then began to improvise with audience members. Looking
for victims as he moved through the aisle, all eyes were on
McFerrin, each member wondering if they would be chosen next. Some
were too giggly to join when McFerrin chose them, but others were
up to the task and gave McFerrin a chance to do what he does best
““ make magic.
McFerrin sang his “Blackbird” from his album
“Spontaneous Inventions.” Just as the audience had
accompanied McFerrin, he now accompanied himself in the song,
jumping with precision from bass to soprano . The song ended
delightfully with the flutter of wings, again via McFerrin the
Magician, as he used his voice to deftly imitate the blackbird
flying away.
In his only monologue of the night, McFerrin told the audience
about his trip to Finland, where he learned to sing Bach’s C
major prelude from “The Well-Tempered Clavier” to
appease Finnish tastes. He added that Charles Gounod had written an
“Ave Maria” sung on top of the C major prelude.
“You sing that,” McFerrin said to the audience about
the “Ave Maria.” “I’ll sing the Bach
prelude.”
This time, the star wasn’t McFerrin, but the audience,
which produced several talented sopranos to sing Gounod’s
moving melody.
McFerrin’s set ended with a rendition of “Over the
Rainbow,” which turned into a one-man vaudeville rendition of
“The Wizard of Oz.”
McFerrin became the tornado, the munchkins, the scarecrow and
even the witch, throwing his glass of water on himself and saying,
“I’m melting!”
After McFerrin’s solo set, the audience, previously eager
to go to the lobby for intermission, stayed inside with a
ubiquitous standing ovation.
McFerrin had expanded the possibilities of the human voice,
truly demonstrating that, as the title of one of McFerrin’s
tunes says, “Freedom is a Voice.” After the Bizet
symphony, the audience gave McFerrin a standing ovation with cries
of, “Encore!”
However, though magic has the power to free the human spirit, it
comes in small portions. McFerrin’s alchemy, turning a
potentially somber rainy night into an energetic one, no doubt
inspires the magic that exists in everyone.
