Dominick Farinacci

“Ne me quitte pas…”
–Jacques Brel

There are two ways to interpret “ne me quitte pas.” The literal translation is what you’ll hear if you make a phone call in a French-speaking country and the person at the other end says, “Ne me quitte pas” — the exact translation is “do not leave me” or don’t go away. In the Jacques Brel song of the same name, ne me quitte pas is not that empty request; it’s a yearning plea. It was the same thing I felt when jazz trumpeter Dominick Farinacci finished his first set ever played in Los Angeles at the Catalina Bar and Grill. Ne me quitte pas. But he won’t. He’s just got here, and it’s been so long since there’s been a jazz musician of this caliber and promise, especially at such young age, that he’s going to be around for a very long time.

Mr. Farinacci’s performance at our famous Catalina Bar and Grill came just days after the highly anticipated debut of his U.S. album, Lovers, Tales & Dances, on February 24th. The album features some of the greatest players in jazz, including Kenny Barron, James Genus, Marc Johnson, Lewis Nash, Jamey Haddad, Joe Lovano and Joe Locke. I was lucky enough to have heard the album just the day before I saw him. Not only is this an album with an amazing range of repertoire, but it’s been painstakingly nurtured and produced with the inimitable taste and precision of multiple Grammy award-winner Russ Titelman.

When I spoke to Titelman right before I went to the show, I asked him what it was I could expect. He unhesitatingly answered, “Exceptional playing with a personal and extraordinary tone and an unerring sense of good taste. He never overplays. He approaches each song like a singer. He’s very conscious of the lyric, so he plays from that perspective — melody first — but the story is equally important.” Well, that certainly gave me something to think about until showtime.

That night, Dominick Farinacci, dazzlingly young and handsome, dressed in a suit and tie, walked through the audience to the stage with such ease and grace, and his trumpet so casually in his hand, that it appeared he’d been born with the instrument in place.

Without any pretense, Mr. Farinacci opened with his original composition appropriately entitled “Visions,” which began with just a fleeting wisp of Herbie Hancock’s “Maiden Voyage” and drummer Carmine Intorre’s brushes on the cymbals being the rhythmic whisper as the piece became pure “Farinacci.” It was going to be everything Titelman had promised.

Just like on the album Lovers, Tales & Dances, Astor Piazzola’s “Libertango” was second. In the tango, there’s a fine line between sensual and sexy; that’s for the listener’s interpretation. In this version of “Libertango,” it began with a certain rhythmic urgency that created the underlying sexual tension that’s inherent in the tango. The percussionist, Keita Ogawa, teased us with small ripples played on just the cymbals of his tambourine, while the overall rhythm was set and the familiar tango bass-line on the piano by Adam Birnbaum joined in to firmly establish the mood for what was to come — “the horn.” Whereas “Libertango” on the album has a slightly breathless dance tempo, live, it was slowed down just enough to be “creamy.” No matter which way you like it, Mr. Farinacci’s “Libertango” is an interpretation of the tango that makes you feel like you know how to tango even if you don’t.

Between numbers, Mr. Farinacci introduced himself. He is absolutely charming and unprepossessing on stage, and when he smilingly added that it was his birthday, we were his. Of course, we all sang “Happy Birthday” (he requested that it be in B!).

He chatted casually but with great respect about the influence of other musicians on his playing. As far as trumpet players go, his main influence is Clifford Brown.

“Every time I hear him play, it has a real profound emotional impact on me.” He says Clifford Brown with Strings is one of his all-time favorite albums: “I learned every solo from that record and just loved the textures and the sounds.” But, as Titelman had told me earlier, “He approaches every song as a singer,” and that’s apparent in the lyricism of his playing. He may be a jazz trumpeter, but many of his musical heroes are singers. “I love listening to vocalists, listening to how they phrase melodies, how they interpret certain phrases. All of the songs I play have a beautiful lyrical quality about them which I feel reflects some of my most important influences: Clifford Brown, Harry James, Freddie Hubbard, Nina Simone, Carmen McRae, Frank Sinatra and others.”

Mr. Farinacci prefaced his next piece, “Ne me quitte pas,” by discussing the profound affect Nina Simone’s recording had on him. “Her recording of this is very heartfelt to me, especially the recording I heard where her singing sounds like she’s on the verge of crying. I love her sound and her phrasing, the breadth of her voice.” This was felt from the first note he played. He breathed the song through his trumpet rather than blowing into it. Even his hands were a part of it. He has the most beautifully expressive hands, which is something since there are only three valves on a trumpet. As he was playing this piece, his fingers gently moved between valves, completing the atmosphere he was creating. When he got to the bridge, he played with a crystal clarity that matches the promises made in the lyrics. Yasushi Nakamura’s solo on bass supported the mood being created. He slowly extracted the melody from the bass like someone trying to communicate with a lover who’s going to leave and can’t make up her mind as he keeps drawing her back. This rapport between Mr. Farinacci and the other musicians is present throughout the set, exemplifying the perfect dictionary definition of such: a feeling of harmonious connection between people. Whether it’s just from body language, eye contact and matching breathing, they are “in sync” with or on “the same wave length” as one another, creating a mature harmonic expressiveness. It has to be mature because his eclectic knowledge of music covers over 100 years and includes classical, Latin, jazz, blues and contemporary. It was only natural to wonder how the selections came about, and when Mr. Farinacci was asked about the inspiration behind the record, he sincerely answered, “This is some of the music that has become closest to my heart over the years: songs written by composers from many parts of the world, including the USA, Argentina, Brazil, Italy, France and Japan. That’s a mild understatement, considering the impressive list of composers represented on the album: Astor Piazzolla (Argentina), Ivan Lins (Brazil), Jacques Brel (France), Ryuichi Sakamoto (Japan), Petar Lyondev (Bulgaria) — (I thought I was the only one who’d ever heard the Bulgarian piece performed by The Bulgarian Women’s Choir — “Le Mystère Des Voix Bulgares”) and, of course, such Americans as Billie Holiday, Quincy Jones and Ornette Coleman.

Whether he was charming us with Cole Porter’s “It’s All Right With Me” or enveloping us with his clearly enunciated mellow take created with his long flowing lines on “El lecevan el stelle” from Tosca and the theme from the motion picture Babel, there was always a continuity to his repertoire because of his personal closeness and understanding with the music in which he immerses himself. Mr. Farinacci’s hauntingly resigned “Don’t Explain” is just that, whether you know the backstory or not. It’s said Billie Holiday wrote “Don’t Explain” after her husband, Jimmy Monroe, came home one night with lipstick traces on his collar. Written by Billie and inspired by another Nina Simone recording, we were treated to a conversation — not a dialogue — between the trumpet and the sax. This evening, we had a special guest, Rickey Woodard, on tenor sax. As the two musicians enjoyed each other’s companionship on stage, we participated each in our own way, from the audience.

We had a lesson in musical pedagogy with Mr. Farinacci and Mr. Woodard’s interpretation of Ornette Coleman’s complex “Lonely Woman.” Coleman, an American saxophonist, violinist, trumpeter and composer is one of the major figures in the “free Jazz” movement of the ’50s and ’60s. Contained within the intricate sophistication of this piece was even an ephemeral riff sounding like it was from Miles Davis’s version of “Round About Midnight” by Theolonius Monk as we were guided through the piece.

As an encore, he played “Smile” for us with just himself and piano. Charlie Chaplin’s lovely song was like having sorbet at the end of a gourmet meal — a palate cleanser without taking away the memory of what you had just savored. In the middle of this, we were all surprised, as was he, by a huge birthday cake complete with candles. He obligingly blew out the candles and then said he needed to finish the number, which he did. What a lovely way to end a lovely evening.

Mr. Farinacci still plays the same trumpet that his grandmother bought for him when he was in the sixth grade. “She always tells me how dirty she thinks it is,” Farinacci says. “I say, ‘Nonny, that’s good — it means I’m keeping busy.’” I would imagine, from what I saw and the way things are going, luckily for us, his trumpet is going to stay dirty for along time.