Always different, yet identifiable. The late Horace Tapscott would have smiled at the way his Arkestra has evolved, and we did the same at this perennially welcoming outdoor court.
Tapscott's distinctive compositions remained the ribs of the craft, their waltzish rhythms and endlessly repeatable riffs providing reliable support and history, and the mixture of expressions from the 20 musicians kept the winds fresh. If you were far from the stage, you might have wondered:
Who was that energetic melodist at the piano -- crisper than Tapscott and more classically intuitive than funky Nate Morgan? Young Jamael Dean, of course, ready to accept a primary role.
Who expelled the blast of tenor arpeggios rattling our bridgework? Had to be Kamasi Washington, not too famous to continue supporting the community that birthed him.
Who's rocking the upright bass, just as he was in '77? The incredible Roberto Miranda, of course.
Who tore the air on hair-raising alto? Michael Session, previous director of this legendary ensemble.
Who kept up a powerful, ever-changing churn on the drum kit? Smiling Mekala Session, Michael's son, the Ark's current leader and engaging MC.
Declaiming his traditional paean to Tapscott, poet Kamau Daáood sounded as passionate and powerful as ever, although battling some hoarseness while he embraced the Horaceness.
The quickly cooling autumn air set up a similar adversary for singer Dwight Trible, who provided a humorous interlude as he executed a spontaneous soundcheck before his passionate ululations on "Little Africa." Grabbing the mike, he warmed up by singing variations of "Please, Mr. Soundman, don't turn on this microphone!" Whether through the monitors or because his voice is just so strong, we could hear him anyway, and after he had shaken the fog from his larynx and switched on the mike, he hit it out of the park.
The great spiraling voice of Sharada Shashidhar lifted our spirits; every horn soloist brought the goods; and all together they established the locally rooted group magic that only the Ark can muster, seeming to play all 12 tones at once and thus establishing the ultimate template for world harmony.
A notable absence was trombone mainstay Phil Ranelin, announced as recovering from a recent stroke. He was there, though; we could feel it.
PHOTO BY FUZZY GOGGLES.