By Marilyn Lester***The preeminent and towering Duke Ellington is arguably one of the greatest composers that America has ever produced, writing over 3,000 pieces of music in his lifetime, from 1915’s “Soda Fountain Rag,” to his last works—his sacred music. Ellington died in May 1974 at age 75, working to the last (on his unfinished folk opera, Queenie Pie). 
Comfortably behind him were three successful presentations of his Sacred Concerts.
Over two days in Jazz at Lincoln Center’s Appel Room, GRAMMY-winning pianist Luther Allison led a 10-piece ensemble in Come Sunday: The Sacred Works of Duke Ellington. Also featured were vocalists C. Anthony Bryant, Ekep Nkwelle, and the “Sunhouse Singers” (Joie Bianco, June Cavlan and Kate Kortum). Rhythm tap dancer John Manzari was on hand for two numbers. Allison’s aim was to “avoid a ‘carbon copy’ of the original recordings, instead providing a modern edge that reflects the current jazz scene while remaining faithful to Ellington’s spiritual depth.” That intent did not succeed.
Although leading a very secular outer life duri
ng his career, as a private man Ellington’s spirituality was deep. He always carried a Bible with him and read from it nightly. In writing the three Sacred Concerts—words and music—he emphatically declared these works represented “the most important thing I have ever done.” Grace Cathedral in San Francisco was the setting for the first outing, in 1965: A Concert of Sacred Music, with existing material and new compositions including “In the Beginning God,” earning Ellington a GRAMMY Award in 1967. The Second Sacred Concert followed in New York in 1968 at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, and the last was performed at Westminster Abbey in London in 1973. At this point, Ellington had been diagnosed with lung cancer, knew his time was limited and thus presented that final concert with a more solemn and meditative air.
The opener of the Allison-arranged concert was “23rd Psalm”—promising in its approach as a spirited, gospel-tinged work, 
heralded by tambourines and a church feel. Jazz musicians sometimes refer to the venues they play in as church, so that subtext was welcome and clever. But the fourteen compositions that followed mostly missed the mark. Vocals were front and center, presented in various combinations of personnel, with Bryant and Nkwelle both largely engaged in vocal tricks rather than storytelling. Ellington led his band for over 50 years, writing specifically for its members; the piano may have been his instrument, but it was the band that superseded all. And while Allison’s ensemble was first rate, this band occupied a back seat throughout the concert—not very Ellingtonian at all.
The most egregiously offensive number of all in Allison’s repertoire was “Come Sunday,” originally featured in Ellington’s renowned 1943 suite, Black, Brown and Beige, described as a “tone parallel to the history of the Negro in America.” 
How serious was Ellington about “Come Sunday?” in 1958 he asked Mahalia Jackson, the world-renowned and revered “Queen of Gospel,” to record it. The Allison version deconstructed the song, leading to a series of meaningless vocal excersizes whose twists and turns robbed this deeply moving work of its significance. Most successful were the two numbers with the virtuosic Manzari. His skill brought a truly spiritual energy to “David Danced Before the Lord” and”Praise God and Dance.”
The finale, ironically, “Tell Me It’s the Truth,” capped off a concert in which the truth served wasn’t Ellington’s. Over a 50-year career of composing and bandleading, Ellington would be the first to rearrange and rework his material—he believed in growth and evolution and his discography proves it. In this instance, in Allison’s reworking, Duke wasn’t even in the room. Off-putting as well was a self-serving narrative by Allison describing his process in which he also managed to disrespect a major jazz pianist “whose name shall not be mentioned.” Fortunately and ultimately, the works of the American genius Duke Ellington remain indestructible. All else is quite forgettable.
Photos by Leandro Badalotti
