Aretha Franklin at the Rochester International Jazz Festival, June 9, 2002. Photo by Bill Ribas © 2002 NY Rock. More Photos

It was an impressive effort just pulling all the names together for one big week of music. On the plus side, nearly all the acts I saw began on time. Another plus was the proximity of clubs to one another. With easy walking distance between them, you could catch half of one set and easily bounce over to another club for the remainder of a different one.

If there were any demerits to be awarded, it would be for the "Jazz Pass," an item that for $25 allowed you entry into a week's worth of shows at any of the clubs, with the caveat being admission granted on a first-come, first-serve basis. Had the festival not been well populated, this would have been fine. But in several instances, club goers were stuck in line, or huddled together in a minuscule standing-room-only area, knocking shoulders with servers delivering drinks and food. In the case of Norah Jones, for example (who was booked before she became really popular), fans got in line around 5 p.m. for a 10 p.m. show in a club with a 300-seat capacity. By 7:30 p.m. or so, there were that many people in line.

But the chance to see a legend like Sonny Rollins (for as little as 25 bucks) was too good to pass up. The jazz great blew his way through many tunes, such as "Global Warming" or "Tenor Madness," with such fluidity and grace, that it was hard to view other acts on the same night. Rollins at one point took an extended solo, interjecting various popular melodies while rambling across a bebop landscape.

Diane Reeves at the Rochester International Jazz Festival, June 3 - 9, 2002. Photo by Bill Ribas © 2002 NY Rock. More Photos

Similarly, though on a grander scale, the Carnegie Hall Jazz Band, led by Jon Faddis, ripped through some standards, like "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes," and a wicked rendition of Benny Goodman's "Sing, Sing, Sing," which featured an unusual rhythmic arrangement. There is something about the presence of a big band. If you haven't had the opportunity to experience it, you should make a point to. Sadly, Carnegie Hall cut its association with the band, but Faddis pointed out that they hope to continue under a different name. Diane Reeves was also a pleasure. Reeves is cited by many critics as the heir to Sarah Vaughn, and her voice turned from sexy to playful to scat singing in a heartbeat. Her presence, which was warm and inviting, was bolstered by her storytelling, as she recounted tales between songs, telling how she used to listen to Parliament Funkadelic before it was called P-Funk, how she got into jazz singing, and how she came close to improvising over Bach in school.

Other shows, though featuring somewhat strange lineups, fared equally as well. Though the combination of Beatle Jazz; John Hammond; John Mooney; and Medeski, Martin and Wood sounds like a bizarre mix, it actually played out quite well. Beatle Jazz interpreted hits from the Fab Four, though some numbers would have you scratching your head to identify the original. Both Hammond and Mooney covered different aspects of blues, the former continuing on his never-ending tour of old Delta and Country blues, and there are few that can match his fluidity. Mooney, who cut his teeth at the feet of Son House (who lived the end of his days in Rochester), left town a while back to take up residence in New Orleans, and presented swampy, bayou-inflected blues, with a slide attack similar to Bonnie Raitt. And MM&W showed the avant-garde side of jazz and rock, closing the show to a crowd of 5,000.

John Hammond at the Rochester International Jazz Festival, June 3 - 9, 2002. Photo by Bill Ribas © 2002 NY Rock. More Photos

The event's finale again featured an unusual lineup, but one that seemed to gel as the day wore on. The Average White Band, the "most sampled band" in the world, got pretty funky for a bunch of Scottish lads. And Dr. John was at his Cajun best, laid back but still cool. The Blues Brothers Band presented a bit of a paradox. Since the original movie came out in 1980, seeing them gave the sense of aging rock stars who can't quit, or '50s revival shows, and they can appear dangerously close to becoming a parody of what they started. On the other hand, for the R&B Chicago blues they play, it's hard to find anyone better. When they launched into the "Theme From Peter Gunn," any thoughts of tackiness evaporated. But when the current lead singer (yep, only one), started playing to the crowd, the act seemed tired. Sadly, Matt "Guitar" Murphy wasn't with them, having suffered a stroke a while back.

And Aretha? What can one say? Though she has pulled out of a few upstate shows at the last minute (but claims to have the hospital records to prove her reasons), she can still belt it out. Her voice seemed a bit weak in spots, but her nemesis early on was the monitor system, which kept feeding back. At one point, she said, "A lot of people paid good money to get in this show. Let's get the money into the sound, or I may not be around here long." Miraculously, the problems ceased (now, if she could only work the same magic on my student loans and credit card debt). As she ran through hits like "Chain of Fools" and "Respect," the familiarity of the material made the songs that much better, and her voice, booming across the partially filled stadium, was a good way to end a week-long event.

Estimated to draw around thirty thousand people the first time around (and according to Nugent, he hit that mark), the festival was as big as it was ambitious. Oh sure, there were a few minor glitches, but given the range of performers and venues, it is surprising that it went as smoothly as it did. It was a successful venture, one that perhaps will someday grow into a festival along the lines of, say, the Montreal Jazz Fest, which also started small, and today is known worldwide.

The meshing of so many well-known and proficient acts combined with rock-bottom prices made for a splendid time. Don't you just love happy endings?