Etienne Charles
‘Creole Orchestra’
Culture Shock Music

It might have been Ed Sullivan who perpetuated the tradition of telling audiences where performers are from, in endearingly awkward introductions like, “And now here’s Tony Bennett, from Astoria, Queens, with Londoner Ralph Sharon.” 

So many concert emcees and bandleaders now go out of their way to give the points of origin for everyone in the band, in a way that now almost always sounds superfluous — especially since, in our modern age of jazz education and the internet, a saxophone player from Moscow doesn’t necessarily sound any different than one from Moscow, Idaho. 

Yet when trumpeter Etienne Charles introduces his sidemen, as he did this week at 92NY, it seems entirely relevant to tell us where they’re all from, like that’s an integral part of the music that they make and their contributions. Keyboardist Axel Tosca and bassist Lino Piquero Bueno are from Havana; Jorge Glem plays the cuatro, a ukulele-like instrument from his native Venezuela; Harlem-born saxophonist Godwin Louis was raised at Port au Prince, Haiti; percussionist and steelpan specialist Andre White hails from Freeport, New York, “by way of Jamaica”; and drummer Harvel Nakundi is from Miami by way of Haiti and the Congo. 

That leaves guitarist Alex Wintz of Morristown, New Jersey.  The leader, Mr. Charles, famously represents Trinidad; born in 1983 at Port of Spain, he has served for most of the last 20 years as that island nation’s no. 1 contribution to the international jazz scene, much as Kingston-born pianist Monty Alexander does for Jamaica. 

Mr. Charles’s music, both live at 92NY and on his new album, “Creole Orchestra,” is a marvelous amalgam of sounds and approaches from all over the Caribbean, North America, and the many lands of the African diaspora. 

At 92NY, Mr. Charles and his seven musicians began with his original “Douens,” inspired by a mischievous supernatural trickster from Trinidadian folklore. The piece is heard in a more elaborate big band orchestration on the album, but the concert version featured Mr. Louis on soprano saxophone, which made me think of Sidney Bechet’s famous 1939 Haitian merengue sessions.   

“Douens,” like the best of Mr. Charles’s music, is light in tone, breezy and playful, yet still substantial. As with Mr. Alexander and the many classic calypsos of Sonny Rollins, Mr. Charles’s music shows that it’s not only the heavier pieces that deserve to be taken seriously. His third piece, “Continuum,” dedicated to a late cousin, was even lighter and prettier, with Mr. Charles playing a dreamy flugelhorn solo against a background of mostly bass, cuatro, and Mr. White’s steelpans.

Mr. Charles also reprised Thelonious Monk’s “Green Chimneys” — a surprisingly popular piece among younger players these days — from his 2011 album “Creole Soul,” with a distinctly un-Monk-ish piano solo by Mr. Tosca. A few songs later, the eight-piece band was joined by 92NY’s host and artistic director and guest pianist, Aaron Diehl, of Columbus, Ohio. They played several numbers, including an exciting calypso, “Trinidad Calypso,” and the ragtime-inspired “Coronation Rag” by a Trinidadian-British piano star, Winifred Atwell.  

On the album, the most prominent guest is a veteran Virginia-born singer, René Marie, who sings a semi-standard, Eartha Kitt’s “I Want to Be Evil,” a classic blues by Harry Sweets Edison, “Centerpiece” — itself inspired by Johnny Mandel’s “Keester Parade” — and two of her own excellent originals. I’ve heard her sing “Colorado River Song” live, but the lush orchestration by Mr. Charles now makes it sound like the Colorado River somehow flows between Kansas City and Kingston.  

On Wednesday evening, rather than relentlessly plugging the new album, as many artists would do, Mr. Charles played only one additional song from “Creole Orchestra,” and this was the concert closer, “Poison.” Here, he added yet more ingredients to the mixture, this time from hip-hop. 

The recorded big band version includes a spot for rapper Brandon Rose, while live at 92NY he brought the crowd to its feet by reciting the words himself. I have to say, I prefer Mr. Charles’s chanting of those words, which seemed less like a formal rap session and more like a joyful incantation.