Andy Narell

On this edition of Billy Taylor's Jazz at the Kennedy Center, steel pan drums virtuoso Andy Narell captivates the audience at Viterbo College in Wisconsin with his mesmerizing sound. Narell displays a mastery of both his instrument and its historical context. Andy helped introduce the steel pans to American music by bridging the gap between their traditional Trinidadian use and jazz. The scholarship on this show is only outdone by the musicianship as Narell's playing proves hypnotic throughout.

Although Narell grew up in New York, he spent his childhood listening to music from Trinidad and other Caribbean islands. The show takes a charming turn when Andy admits that his love for jazz began during his teenage years as he listened to Billy Taylor on WLIB. During this period, Narell's father founded a community outreach program that helped turn gang members onto steel pans. Narell's immersion within this culture fueled his love for the instrument, and as he says, "If not for odd turns in life, I would've had a real job."

Narell brings more than a cursory knowledge of music to his playing. His studies at the University of California, Berkeley include a background in European classical music and composition, drumming, and hand percussion. Narell displays extraordinary knowledge and enthusiasm for the instrument. He discusses the inception of the steel pans, which originated in Trinidad's Port of Spain during the 1930s. Narell narrates the story of Trinidadian teenagers piecing together discarded garbage--pots, pans, garbage can covers, paint cans, bottles, spoons, and brake drums--and fashioning them into a revolutionary orchestra. According to Narell, this mythic tale "was really about rhythm." He continues the history lesson by discussing and mimicking the technique required to tune his pans. Hammers are actually used to stretch and loosen the instrument--and Andy carries his tuning hammer with him at all times. Narell concludes the discussion by playing a solo on "Adrenaline City," a tune penned by Trinidad's David Rudder.

Narell's love for Trinidad continues to grow. He has visited the country every year since 1966, and he calls the Caribbean island his "favorite place in the whole world." Last year, Narell attended the Panorama, Trinidad's national steel band competition, and he relays to the Wisconsin audience the tale of his appearance. This steel band "Superbowl" pits orchestras of over one hundred musicians against each other in a contest scored according to performance and composition. Narell equates the affair to Olympic ice skating where high and low scores are discarded for political reasons. The sense of earnestly which Trinidad holds for steel band playing has helped create a worldwide infectiousness for this music. Narell has witnessed pan yards in South Africa, and he has led master class clinics in remote cities like La Crosse, Wisconsin.

During the audience-questioning portion of the program, both musicians are asked to discuss their rehearsal habits. Dr. Taylor fondly recalls his mother making him practice, and according to him, she would walk by the piano and quip, "It doesn't sound like music yet." Narell reminds the audience that "talent is overrated." Music is about playing. He uses the culture of Trinidad as an example. There, musicianship avails itself to the entire society. People of all ages--and not strictly professional musicians--gather to play the steel pans. Music helps build the culture's soul.

When Dr. Taylor and Narell discuss the energy created by a steel pan orchestra, Narell points out the influence of pan size on audience and musician. Larger steel pans, shaped like oil cans, require the drummer to maneuver about the instrument in order to strike the correct notes. When a group of ten musicians begin to move around formidable objects in unison, the audience contagiously responds by dancing.

Andy Narell sees the steel pans as an instruments that can break down barriers between musical forms. Narell displays his ability to incorporate steel drum playing within a jazz context when he accompanies Dr. Taylor's trio on a stellar version of Richard Rodgers' "My Funny Valentine." When Narell visits the pan yards in Brooklyn and hears as many as four bands practicing, he knows that his ambassadorship to the steel pans has taken root. The evening concludes with a nod to Narell's worldview of the pan as the musicians perform the remarkable Brazilian samba, "Lamentos."

Don't miss Andy Narell in our Photo Gallery!