MUSIC

ACC Jazz Ensemble goes to Washington

Austin group is the only one from a community college invited to play at inaugural event

By Joe Gross
AMERICAN-STATESMAN STAFF
Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Last Thursday, Tom Husak was giving orders.

"Next!," he said, as the 20-plus musicians of the Austin Community College Jazz Ensemble shuffled their sheet music and began to play the Cole Porter classic, "I've Got You Under My Skin." It was a cold night, but the rehearsal hall in building 4000 at Austin Community College's Northridge Campus was toasty warm, filled with the sounds of big band jazz.

Husak is their conductor, has been since 1982, and Thursday was the final rehearsal before the biggest gig of the band's career: Playing a ball tonight after the inauguration of Barack Obama as the 44th president of the United States of America. Monday, the band played at Howard University, a warm-up of sorts. The uniform for that was what Husak calls "Chicago thug — dark suit, dark shirt."

But tonight, it's tuxes for the guys and dark dresses for the women as they open the LINK-live Presidential Inaugural Gala 2009 at the Corcoran Gallery of Art. ACC is the only community college band invited to perform at one of the inaugural balls, Husak says. Word has it that Obama and soon-to-be Vice President Joe Biden have already RSVP'd.

But last week, it was time to run through the pieces.

"Floor tom, floor tom," Husak says over the music, gesturing to drummer Brenton Bird, who, smoothly keeping time, adds a fill.

Bird, 25, has been playing with the band for about four semesters. "This is the only band I'm committed to," Bird says. He grew up listening to jazz and big band music and when he's not making Husak's arrangements of the great American songbook swing, he works at Steinway Piano Gallery.

This is the cool thing about the ACC jazz ensemble. It's not that they are working musicians, it's that they aren't, at least not most of them. Everyone in the band has to be enrolled in at least continuing education at ACC, if not a full-time student. Most everyone here has a day job. One guy is wearing his Dell badge. Baritone sax player Nathan Alhades has been playing the saxophone for 11 years, but he also owns Texas Shine Auto Detailing.

"It's fulfilling," Alhades, 21, says. "I play for myself, but play for the happiness of other people. I feel really privileged to do this."

"Under My Skin" ends and everyone flips to "At Last My Love."

"Don't beat this up," Husak says. He counts off the song with a swinging beat: "One-lolly, two-lolly \u2026" He has an interesting vibe, part chilled-out jazzbo, part absent-minded professor. But he's also concentrating, conducting with verve, gesturing with his arms and hands when someone needs to pick it up or slow down.

"We put on quite a show," Husak said last week. "It's the standards but with arrangements I've written."

They've done most of the songs for tonight's gig before, but there are a few exceptions. Guest singer Andrew Heller, whose voice owes more to light opera than blues, is crooning out "Chicago (That Toddlin' Town)," an appropriate choice for a new president who used to represent Illinois in the Senate and live in Chicago's Cook County.

After "At Last My Love," Husak looks around. "Where's Marvin?"

Because everyone is about to start playing Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On?" this seems a slightly rude question. But Husak is talking about Marvin Crowe, who will be singing the tune and a guy for whom Husak has been writing arrangements for about 25 years. Crowe isn't at rehearsal yet, but the band plows through the tune anyway.

After a few more songs, it's 8 p.m. "We have two hours to sound like Count Basie," Husak says. "Everyone take five." Folks go out to smoke, to mill around, to fix their instruments.

When they get back, Husak goes over to the microphone and starts going over the itinerary, suddenly sounding for all the world like every other teacher ever, prepping a group of students for a field trip like any other.

"For 27 years, I've gotten those kinds of phone calls — you know the ones I mean," Husak says. " 'I've come down with something, I can't make it.' Don't give me any of those this time."

Everyone laughs, but it's a funny laugh, a little excited, a little nervous, both looking forward to and perhaps vaguely dreading the 24-hour bus trip. Most of these folks aren't kids going out on tour. They're adults in their 20s and 30s and 40s and 50s, playing because they love the music from when everyone pretty much agreed that America was great.

Husak goes over the plan — soundcheck at 6 p.m. local time, ball starts at 7ish, they go on soon after. He makes it sound like just another gig, but everyone knows better.

"I've known Tom for about four or five years and I've never seen him as thrilled about a gig," Alhades says. "He's really excited and that thrill passed itself through the band."

But on Thursday, there was more work to be done. "That run through our set was only 29 and a half minutes," Husak says. "If we need to do more, we'll just dip into that pocket and pick out some songs."

He pauses. Everyone picks up their instruments. "OK," he says. "Let's get back to it."

jgross@statesman.com; 912-5936