On August 5, the MetLife Music of the Americas concert series presented Brazilian musical legend Hermeto Pascoal and his band at Symphony Space in a free concert that consisted of more than two hours of nearly nonstop music. Presented in collaboration with Lincoln Center Out of Doors and with the support of the Consulate General of Brazil in New York, the performance began when bassist Itiberê Zwarg—like the other group members, a superb musician in his own right—walked on stage and began to play, with little fanfare or introduction. Slowly, leisurely, the rest of the band members entered and joined in, until the baseline became a fully-fledged piece with six individual yet strikingly cohesive parts: André Marques on piano, Vinícius Dorin on sax, Márcio Bahia on drum kit, Fábio Pascoal on percussion, Aline Morena on voice, and Hermeto Pascoal on keyboard, accordion, alto flute, teapot, and rubber duck.

 

When the bandleader finally came onstage, unmistakable with his long white hair and a bright, floral shirt, the crowd showed an appreciation and enthusiasm that was to be characteristic of the night. Pascoal gradually took control of the song’s and band’s direction, communicating solos and set changes to his bandmates practiced ease, concluding songs with a single jump that would send his hair flying.

 

The band barely paused between charts, rendering the concert less a set list and more a narrative, shifting from funk to jazz to more Brazilian-inflected tunes seamlessly. The music on display (all Pascoal’s) was astonishingly complex, a small miracle of controlled chaos, quickly itinerant melodies, and minute rhythmic shifts. The ensemble executed it with aplomb, making sense of structures that teetered sensationally on the edge of disintegration, staying tight and on point through music that didn’t pause for a second. Every group member had an opportunity to display his or her considerable chops; the overall impression was one of immense complexity joined with ability more than equal to the task of navigating it.

 

And then, of course, there was the not-so-secret weapon: Pascoal himself. Though dexterous in the extreme, his performance was notable as much for the joy he found in playing a teapot, rubber duck, and air pump (not necessarily in that order) with the same enthusiasm and skill he devoted to keyboard, flute and accordion. Pascoal went so far as to set aside his myriad instruments for a call and response that the audience participated in with gusto and impressive accuracy. He, his band, and his music all exhibited versatility without compromise and unabashed skill that was thrilling to watch.

 

Read a review of the concert at All About Jazz here, and watch and listen to media from the performance below.

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