Matos’ Latin Jazz Pulses With Holiday Spirit

Why does Bobby Matos always draw such a jam-packed, vocally enthusiastic crowd to his annual Christmas week appearances at Catalina Bar & Grill? Probably because his pleasant blend of foot-tapping Latin rhythms and brisk jazz improvisations has the kind of convivial, share-the-music spirit that seems especially appropriate for the holiday season.

And on Saturday night at the club, in the first of a two-night booking, Matos and his Afro Latin Jazz ensemble did it again, playing for a crowded house, mixing some of his familiar numbers with a batch of new tunes scheduled for an upcoming recording session.

Matos, as always, was at the center of the action, his minimalist setup of timbales, cymbal and cowbell providing the heartbeat of the rhythm, the surging pulse that kept the music alive. But he shaped and molded the proceedings in other ways as well, serving as a combination of sergeant and foreman--sometimes requesting, sometimes insisting upon the procedures he wanted--with the music unfolding completely under his direction.

The ensemble sound and the flow of the solos were aided enormously by a talented pair of front-line horn players--saxophonist-flutist Michael Turre and trombonist Steve Baxter--who worked in contrasting but complementary styles. Turre, especially on alto saxophone, was a bold, upfront stylist, his penetrating sound and bop-tinged lines making for gripping, declamatory musical statements, most notably so on his own piece “Lamento.”

Baxter, playing with a highly personal, vocalized timbre, was a more subtle improviser, his range of expression moving from small, intimate passages to big, blowzy, avant-garde styled shouting. He is an unusually interesting trombonist, a player with the kind of originality that warrants wider hearing.

Pianist Victor Cegarra, conga player Robertito Melendez and bassist Rene Camacho laid down an unerring foundation of rhythm, solidly supporting the horn players’ high-flying excursions.

Despite the obvious affection of his listeners, Matos--to his credit--made no effort to dilute his music, to reduce it to an easily accessible, lowest-common-denominator form of Latin jazz. And, in the long run, that honesty, that insistence upon being true to his art, may have been what was most appealing--and most communicative--about an absorbing evening of music.