Toshi Onizuka knows how to strike when the opportunity is hot because when Victor Little makes it back to his hometown of Portland, he makes the best of it. From a very hot concert called Victor Little and Friends, Past and Present on Friday, April 27 to Jimmy Mak's on Saturday to the Paragon on Sunday afternoon, Victor played magnificently with his Portland favorites.

When it was told that Victor would be with Toshi Onizuka and Reinhardt Melz on Sunday, it was clear that this was a treat not to be missed. Victor and Toshi were fantastic together on the Bitter Smile and Espresso tracks from Toshi's latest CD, When You Passed By. Sunday at the Paragon would provide an opportunity to see Toshi, Victor and Reinhardt Melz delve into other Toshi originals in addition to other classic Spanish and bossa nova tunes. And so it turned out.

It all began with Blue Bossa, the jazz standard that combines bossa nova with a hard bop. This was also a track included on Toshi's latest CD and Victor took to it with his usual skill and grace. Toshi seemed to kick into blues in yet another example of Toshi's example of the Zen teaching "You can never enter the same river twice." The riverbanks may be defined and the direction of the current may be established, but the water you wade into is never the same. In Toshi's playing, the time might be the same and the chords may be set, but the variables always make for a different experience. The truth is that even the times and chords may get shifted to suit what Toshi senses is right for the moment. A philosophy worth investigating.

Reinhardt plays it in the same way. As Victor holds the steady bass line, Reinhardt switches from brushes to sticks back to brushes, always perfecting the sound for the setting. Then Victor is given a solo and the five-stringed bass releases such smooth emotion as Toshi takes up the accompaniment.

This is the temptation, to watch the soloist so intently that one misses what the others are doing. I always enjoy watching a movie's background characters and action. Watching the integrity of supporting actors is the sight that gets me the most. To see how a performer carries on when the spotlight is on someone else is one of the real joys of watching art. I remember watching Jamal Wilkes moving without the basketball, or Cal Ripken, Jr. repositioning himself just before the pitch, or Toshi Onizuka switching to a support role as he makes space for Victor or Reinhardt. He is generous but he is not idle.

In performing The Girl from Ipanema, Toshi switched up the time to 6/8. Victor looked over, wide-eyed, at Reinhardt who smiled back knowing that working with Toshi is an adventure in sonic exploration. Last week, Toshi was performing Agua de Beber  and I barely recognized the song. I mentioned to him later that I had no idea where it was going and he laughed and said, "Neither did I for a minute." He said that to elecit a laugh because one always has the feeling that Toshi knows exactly where he is going.

It is wonderful to hear well-worn songs done so refreshingly new and alive. Old songs under new arrangements make for new songs and new experiences. And Toshi is accompanied in lock-step by Victor and Reinhardt. Part of the fun was watching Victor responding to the new direction as he sat during his solo with his heels clicking together like Dorothy trying to get back to Kansas. But Victor was right at home the whole time because he can follow a groove like few can.

Besame Mucho (English: Kiss Me a Lot) is another old Spanish standard that has been covered by everybody. Written in 1940 by Consuelo Velasquez, a young Mexican woman who, at the time of the writing of the song, had never been kissed. From the Beatles to King Curtis to Herb Albert, it has been tossed around.

Under the Toshi treatment, it takes on a quality of desire that has not been seen before. There wasn't a lust in Toshi's version as much as an ache. Part of it is because he changed the key to D minor which completely changes the mood. The mood was almost spectral. There was a quality of reminiscence.

When Victor accepted the solo, he added to that whole sense even in his demeanor as he had a faraway look that made a person what he was remembering or dreaming or hoping. Toshi held down the melodic line through the whole solo and, when he resumed the lead, he punched in some jazzy turns as Victor walked it back alongside Reinhardt's brushwork.

Just when it looked like the song was going pretty straightforward to the end, Toshi became Segovia on LSD and kept up the twists without ever breaking the mood. Victor still had that faraway but contented look even as Reinhardt turned a whole new rhythm pattern that pushed the song past the 12 minute mark. It became a samba as Victor and Reinhardt punched up the rhythm section and Toshi evoked images of hot nights in Rio de Janiero. This was not the Besame Mucho that Paul McCartney crooned. 

Victor then took part in some of Toshi's originals--Hypocrisy and When You Passed By-- and took to them like he had been playing them since childhood. From these to Agua de Beber, then to Black Orpheus which is a poweful piece. Reinhardt lays down a groove that Toshi and Victor easily fall into. A stirring, emotional experience. Reinhardt is the foundation of what transpires here in this song.

As I have written before, Reinhardt Melz is my favorite of all Portland drummers, maybe all drummers everywhere. He is without equal in drumming skill and rhythm. He also plays tonally, melodically. But like Toshi, there is a quality about the man himself that draws you. When he laughs, it is full-faced and contagious. When he concentrates, you find yourself listening for what it is that he is hearing. His movements are subtle. "Artistic," as my wife would say. There is a deep loyalty inside of him to the music, yes, but most especially to those with whom he performs. He refuses the spotlight when the spotlight does not advance the music and he makes room for others. Reinhardt and those with whom he associates seem to share the virtue of selflessness. In hearing Reinhardt perform or in hearing him speak, you learn something about him and you learn a lot about yourself.

With Victor Little sitting in, the give and receive of great musicians performing great music is a wonder to witness. Victor is a warm-hearted man whose smile and ease almost immediately draw you in and embrace you. He is a gentle man and a charming man.

To begin the last set, Toshi eased into Light in Shade. I realize that I have written a lot about this song. It has great depth and meaning for me and it energizes and encourages me with every hearing of it. Please indulge my going into it again because, with the addition of Victor's improvisational lines, it becomes something new yet again. In fact, during Victor's solo, Toshi could be heard in agreement with "Yeah-h-h-h-h!"

This song is like reaching enlightenment. There is a pull to the music that carries you further and further along until labor and effort cease and you are borne aloft simply by the melody. You stop actively listening and you fall into meditation. This melody is like a stream of joy and it remains even when the music has stopped. It is a changed life that is at the heart of this piece. Every time I hear it, I am not the same as before. Joy is created and enhanced and life is reborn once again.  

The feeling continued into and through the two concluding numbers. Even an entire performance can be transformed by the beauty and harmony of one simple song. Toshi Onizuka's composing and performing are vehicles for transformation. I am changed everytime I listen with an open heart.

Toshi and Reinhardt are voiceless teachers. They teach with sound instead of words. This is what draws me back week after week.

Watching musicians overcome adversity is always an intriguing thing. It could be acoustical problems, equipment problems, even physical problems, or worse...all of the above.
Sunday at Paragon saw a couple of those problems surface but, fortunately, not all of the above.

From the opening beat laid down by drummer and percussionist Reinhardt Melz, one had the feeling of "Ohhhh, yeahhh..." Jon Hughes' bass was jumping and Toshi Onizuka already was biting his lower lip, a sure sign of being in the groove. But before the song was at the midway point, it became clear that Reinhardt was having difficulty hearing Toshi's guitar.

What was interesting was how Reinhardt compensated for the acoustical problem without stopping the music altogether before the song ended. Being the musical perfectionist that he is, Reinhardt was not going to simply struggle through the song but instead picked up Toshi's beat visually. He watched Toshi's foot as Toshi kept his own time with the up and down motion of his foot. The piece was undisturbed as Toshi kept wailing on his Spanish guitar. Toshi has learned in his experience wih flamenco that strict timing is everything and he does not fail in it.

Before they began the second piece, Una Carta de Amor (A Love Letter), the speakers were adjusted a bit and everything seemed fine until it became clear that the shifting had put Jon's ear right next to Reinhardt's crash cymbal. So, Reinhardt again compensated by only striking the bell (the centermost part) of the cymbal and not the surface, as is normal and louder.

The compensation worked for everyone and the piece concluded beautifully with Jon's eardrums intact.

From there, Toshi began the next piece with a most exquisite introduction. I confess, I had no idea where the song was going but was pleasantly surprised to find that the song being introduced was one of my favorite bossa nova pieces, Agua de Beber by Antonio Carlos Jobim. But this was not the typical arrangement for the song...not at all. Toshi's arranging of the song was an improvisation and it was a clear indicator of his skills as performer and composer.

Fortunately, it was recorded and is available on YouTube below. During the peice, Jon's string broke on his bass. He was able to compensate through the end by playing vertically instead of horizontally and, once again, the music triumphed.

But with the song concluded, Jon excused himself to change the string, leaving Toshi and Reinhardt to continue with a jam that can only be called A Jam for Jon. Toshi recorded and looped his scratching on the guitar string that sounded like the playing of a guiro. Jon had left the building to retrieve the proper string and Toshi and Reinhardt combined a medley for the jam including Tito Puente's Oye Como Va, Luis Banfa's Gentle Rain and Deep Purple's Smoke on the Water. Toshi jumped from one hot number to the next effortlessly. It was a 20 minute improvisation that took them to the end of the first set.

When they returned, with Jon's bass again intact, they began the second set with When You Passed By from Toshi's second CD. Reinhardt was using doubled sticks for a cool groove that brought a big grin from Toshi. Jon added a popping bass line and the result was a very appreciative audience.

Following Blue Bossa, the trio launched into Hypocrisy which is one of Toshi's most lyrical and melodic compositions. During this performance, however, Reinhardt threw in a funky groove that actually made Toshi turn his head away in suppressed laughter. Reinhardt then turned the funk into his own melodic drumming and the coming together was dramatic and beautiful and haunting.

By this time, the great percussionist Bobby Torres had entered with his wife and took up a booth close to Reinhardt. When a great musician takes a seat in the audience, the performers always seem to take things up a notch...or two.

Difficult Flower, with a difficult 5/8 time, began the third and final set. The drum work by Reinhardt was smoking. Toshi was on fire, as well. This was Toshi's own composition and he plays it with all his heart. It is very nearly as lyrical as Hypocrisy and it is equally intriguing. Bobby Torres must have approved as he was smiling broadly during the listening.

When that workout was finished, Toshi breathed out and said to Jon and Reinhardt, "Let's do something easier."

It is not to say that a master, even legendary, musician in the audience is a problem to be overcome but it is a test of how musicians respond. The Toshi Onizuka Trio responded well.

In the 6/8 time of Gentle Rain, Jon and Toshi were beautifully in sync with each other and they did climb up another notch or two. Jon laid down a very nice bass line and Toshi's melodic guitar was sweet. Toshi is a musician beloved by other musicians. He can play at almost any level of virtuosity and he is a cherished performer and composer.

During Gentle Rain, Bobby Torres was keeping time by slapping his thighs as he sat in his booth. His broad grin revealed his enjoyment.

Toshi was enjoying the rhythm so much that he gave up his guitar in favor of palmas during Reinhardt's solo. As Toshi never retrieved his guitar, the solo became an extended one until finally Reinhardt started counting them back with a heavily stated "One..two...THREE..." and Toshi was forced to snatch up his guitar again and continue. This was pure enjoyment for musicians and audience alike.

As the final song was under full swing, Bobby Torres and his wife got up from their booth and before leaving, Bobby looked Toshi in the eye and gave him a solid "thumbs up" with a broad smile and then he left the room.

The trio finished beautifully. A beautiful afternoon full of broken strings and butterflies and Toshi Onizuka never losing his ear for the sound he wanted to create.

Part of the fun of watching Toshi Onizuka is his relentless, even merciless, combining of different styles of technique, composition and execution. Not only is it his playing, but the musicianship of Jon Hughes on bass and Reinhardt Melz on drums allows Toshi the freedom to push beyond borders.

Jon Hughes, for example, never plays over the top but always plays understatedly and supportively. He hangs onto the rhythm and this is no small effort when playing in the same rhythm section as Reinhardt because Reinhardt will take the groove into places that no one expects and few can follow.

In fact, one bassist was heard to remark during a break "I need a cigarette! Playing with Reinhardt just messes with my head."

Toshi, however, thrives in this heady environment and pushes the compositions to places that few others will take them. Again, he combines pieces and even genres and creates a fascinating sonic synthesis that is not only intriquing but is also satisfying.

For example, Blue Bossa--the opening piece--crosses from bossa nova toblues to jazz to (almost) salsa, then back around again. Because of Toshi's flamenco training and influences, Jobim's Agua de Beber (Water to Drink) is played bossa nova with flamenco stabs. Meanwhile, Reinhardt provides all the percussion anyone can ask. The one-handed roll on the cowbell was fun stuff. And here is how you know they have found the groove: Toshi bites his lower lip, Jon's mouth flies open, and Reinhardt chews on his lip. Oral evidence notwithstanding, the sound was enough to reveal the groove. As the song was coming to a close, Toshi's guitar took on a haunting dissonance that even shut up the talkers at the bar. Astonished silence.

Luis Banfa's Gentle Rain has become a stand-by but it took on a different emotion and tone on this particular Sunday. The funky bossa nova had Reinhardt grinning as Toshi worked his effects pedals to make it sound more like Ritchie Blackmore than Luis Banfa. Truth be told, as the song concluded with a nod and a wink to Smoke on the Water, it sounded more like Banfa and Blackmore had gotten into a Sao Paulo bar fight replete with profanities and shouts from the onlookers. In fact, a passerby on the sidewalk outside had stopped dead in his tracks and was staring, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, at what was going on inside.

Girl from Ipanema opened with the most amazing introduction. I looked at my wife and said "I can't see how he is playing that!" I could not see what fingers were playing which strings. It was cool and contained false echoes without the use of effects. Once again, the tight-lipped smile let everyone know that all was as it should be. Then Reinhardt's interlude had Jon Hughes looking to the sky for some deliverance that never came. Toshi picked up from Reinhardt's relentlessly demanding rhythm playing bent strings to create the sense of longing that made the song so enthralling in the first place. Although the lyrics are never heard in Toshi's Trio instrumental, they do give the sense of what emotion is conveyed in the song.

"Tall and tan and young and lovely/The girl from Ipanema goes walking/ When she walks she's like a samba that
Swings so cool and sways so gentle/ That when she passes, each one she passes goes/ "a-a-ah!"
But each day when she/ Walks to the sea/ She looks straight ahead not at me/ The girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes I smile, but she doesn't see/ She just doesn't see/ No she doesn't see..."

The story goes that then-17 year old Helo Pinheiro used to go to a bar everyday to buy cigarettes for her mother. She was a 5'8" brunette beauty that made all the men in the bar stop their conversations as she walked past. The bar is now a restaurant and next door is a boutique called Garota de Ipanema which is owned by now-64 year old Helo Pinheiro. Nicely full circle.

The melancholy and emotional Hyporcrisy followed with that to be followed by my personal favorite Light in Shade. With Toshi's permission, I recorded Light in Shade on my iPhone and have posted it on YouTube with the link below. This is the song that stays with me and one of the songs I want played at my funeral (along with John Lennon's In My Life). Listen to the music and you may understand.

Toshi never plays this song the same way twice. Jon has a cool bass line and Reinhardt has these wicked beats. The song has everything a person could want. The sound of dropped dishes in the background adds to the percussion. Not really.

Toshi has said that his influences were Al DiMeola and Paco de Lucia. It is evident in his playing that he has learned the precision of Paco and the dynamics of DiMeola. Come see for yourself on Sundays at the Paragon with the Toshi Onizuka Trio. Brent the manager and Kate the server have created the perfect Sunday afternoon/evening spot for music. Nothing better.