Jazz stars gather for James Moody Centennial Celebration at Manhattan's Sony Hall

When saxophonist, flutist and sometimes-singer James Moody died in 2010 at 85, it closed an over-six decade career of dozens of albums, hundreds of credits and reputation for humor, grace and, most of all, musicality. But his impact lives on, not just through his music but also through the James Moody Jazz Scholarship (jamesmoody.com/scholarship), awarded annually since 2015 to an “outstanding high school senior who embodies the qualities expressed by the NEA Jazz Master through his life and works – musicianship, creativity, leadership and community involvement”.

The first recipient was fellow tenor saxophonist Birsa Chatterjee, who appeared in the plush environs of midtown Manhattan's Sony Hall on 27 May in the James Moody Centennial Celebration as part of the Blue Note Jazz Festival. This future star was heard alongside a bevy of established luminaries, led by co-musical directors pianist Renee Rosnes and bassist Christian McBride.

Participants ranged from former collaborators to heirs and musicians representing Moody's own artistry and his many associations over the years: trumpeters Randy Brecker and Jon Faddis, saxophonist/clarinetist Paquito D’Rivera, flutist Elena Pinderhughes, bassist Todd Coolman, drummers Terri Lyne Carrington and Adam Nussbaum and singers Madeleine Peyroux, Tyreek McDole and Roberta Gambarini. In another demonstration of his continued influence, McDole was the 2023 Winner of the Sarah Vaughan International Jazz Vocal Competition, taking place each year during the TD James Moody Jazz Festival held in his home of Newark, New Jersey.

The concert, with a packed and effusive audience, began promptly at 8pm with a piped-in announcement from legendary New York radio DJ Frankie Crocker, who signed off every night in the 1970s to King Pleasure's version of ‘Moody's Mood For Love’, followed by opening remarks and thanks by Moody's widow and steward of his legacy Linda. The festivities ended precisely at 9:55 pm. So with all the people to be featured and plenty of material to cover, the event was straightahead and straightforward. The musicians came and went, with only Rosnes, a longtime member of Moody's band, always on stage. Solos were brisk and to the point, banter focused and downtime eliminated. If this wasn't being filmed for later broadcast or commercial release, it should have been.

The night moved between jazz standards Moody played or recorded, with emphasis on former boss Dizzy Gillespie, to his own compositions. The former included the opening Charlie Parker's ‘Au Privave’ with Chatterjee, Brecker, McBride and Carrington, Chatterjee given the honor of the night's first solo; Gillespie's ‘A Night in Tunisia’ adding D'Rivera and Faddis, who showed that even in his seventies he can still hit those stratospheric high notes, and ‘Con Alma’, a nifty classical prelude added that permeated into the bop classic; Rodgers & Hammerstein's ‘It Might As Well Be Spring’ featuring Peyroux in an odd, off-kilter near-sprechstimme; and the closing blowout finale of yet another Gillespie tune, ‘Oop Bop Sh'bam’, all the players sans Coolman and Nussbaum on stage, everyone soloing, with Gambarini and McDole the highlight for their scat duet.

More compelling were Moody's originals: ‘Darben The Redd Foxx’, a bebop country hunting anthem that was a showcase for Pinderhughes; the aforementioned ‘Moody's Mood for Love’ (singer Eddie Jefferson's vocalese reformation of a Moody saxophone solo), Faddis out front and Peyroux standing in for Jefferson; and the highly evocative ‘Last Train From Overbrook’, brought to a mellow, slow landing by the rhythm section of Coolman and Nussbaum, also part of Moody's band with Rosnes.

In the miscellaneous category was the wide emotional swing between ‘Benny's from Heaven’, the hilarious paternity suit reworking of the Arthur Johnston-Johnny Burke chestnut that had McDole in gospelly fervor, and the plaintive Claudio Roditi tribute to the honoree and his wife ‘Linda's Moody’, Gambarini handling the tender vocals and D'Rivera, who first recorded the song with Moody in 1991, adding a lovely clarinet solo.

Moody – and everyone simply called him that – may have been off the scene, so to speak, for years but his spirit was rekindled for one night by a host of enthusiastic admirers, both on stage and in the crowd.