all that (Italian) jazz

Italian jazz is alive and well. In an ideal world we could have more money (less problems), more public funding (a federal budget for the Arts that isn't mutilated every two months by our right wing Government), less self-indulgence (we do live in Europe, where jazz is thriving on creativity, innovation and an informed audience, yet we are NOT Sweden, or Belgium). On the other hand, we have Paolo Fresu, Gianluca Petrella (check out his latest release, "Indigo", on Blue Note, even NYTimes' Ben Ratliff gave him a nod, quite an honor for a trombonist - not exactly a young lion's instrument - of such a young age), Danilo Rea, Dino Piana, Enrico Pieranunzi, Enrico Rava (if he's your kind of trumpeter), talents we carry on our sleeve like a deck of lucky cards and we proudly export.

BUT what is with Italian jazz musicians and self-indulgence? What is it with Italians in general and self-indulgence? Humility wouldn't hurt.

Here is what goes wrong when Umbria jazz festival, up and running - and worldwide famous - since 1973 comes to town for a week-long celebration at Birdland. Same old same old, Italian style.

- quartet only plays three selections. But when they go onstage, it takes them another 10 minutes to set up at the end of which they have yet to decide what to play (bassist turns around and confers with drummer, painist sits oblivious, finger-tapping, tenor sax looks spacey). I mean, THREE tunes, it can't be that hard to figure out a playlist in advance right?
- of course, all three tunes are originals by the bassist, who delights the audience with verbose introductions, tipically opening or closing with "This piece of mine was awarded such and such prize... I composed this for such and such movie by famed director Ics..."
- Sweatshirts are being sold, blue hoodies with a yellow "Umbria jazz loves New Orleans". All donations will benefit a fund for Hurricane Katrina set up in collaboration with Jazz at Lincoln center. Sweatshirts sell at 50$. FIFTY? And they don't take credit cards. New York Correspondent for Italy's major newspaper: "knowing Italians, I have a bad feeling part of the money will be used to cover for the expenses of this promotion stint". I mean, think about it, cash only and no receipts of any kind. When Umbria jazz's founder brags about our contribution to the "higher ground" cause - "We donated 30.000$!!!" - I feel like digging a hole under my chair and disappearing.
- It is a promotional stint, all right, Italian jazz and Umbria's food and wine are the cattle in this fair. Well, nothing wrong with it. Only, I don't get it: if it's promotion they seek, why not invite American press, local investors, promoters? Instead, they fly 90 people from Italy, half of which from Regione Umbria. To do what? To congratulate themselves and give each other pats on the back. Well, couldn't they have done it back home? And too bad for those who expected food and wine to be something more than decent.

- And why does Paolo Fresu, one of our finest trumpeters, chose the goddam flugehorn for the only selection he plays? He's good at it, and known to be, but flugehorn is a bad motherfucker, you have to blow hard, even more so when an obnoxiously loud crowd sits at the bar, backs to the stage, eyes on the blond walkiries shuffling around with armfuls of blue and yellow hoodies.

Humility wouldn't hurt.