It’s awfully hard to pick a single highlight from the many happy evenings I’ve spent at the Jazz Bakery, hearing everyone from Mose Allison to Johnny Frigo, but since I’ve been asked to narrow it down to one, here goes:

On Wednesday, August 11, 1995, I was part of a sold-out house that gathered to celebrate Benny Carter’s 88^th birthday. This was no ordinary tribute: the first half of the evening consisted of Benny himself, as agile as ever on alto sax, accompanied by a rhythm section that could best be described as perfect: Roger Kellaway on piano, John Heard on bass, and the late Sherman Ferguson on drums. Benny didn’t play well for an 88-year-old man—he played beautifully, period, and presided over the set with his customary grace and elegance.

And there were guests. Joe Williams stopped in, and broke up the joint with an impromptu rendition of “I’m Confessin’.” Phil Sobel’s saxophone quartet played stylish, tight-knit arrangements that honored their instrument. Vocalist Bill Henderson was wonderful as always. Buddy Collette joined Benny’s quartet on flute; Mel Martin played sax. And, to my everlasting delight, Ruth Price sang one of Benny’s compositions, the lovely ballad “Only Trust Your Heart” (with lyrics by Sammy Cahn). I wish she’d sing more often!

There was a great sense of community that night, as there often is at the Jazz Bakery, with musicians and fans intermingling, but it was Benny who supplied the glue, and the sense of purpose. But please don’t think this was a one-time event for which a jazz veteran agreed to come onstage: it was just the opening ceremony for a five-night gig! I’ll never forget it.

Leonard Maltin is a film critic/historian and lifelong jazz buff. Once upon a time he wrote jazz reviews for Down Beat and The Village Voice.

The best sort of jazz spots are launching pads. They transport you – deep into the music.  When I think about my best nights at the Jazz Bakery, it’s all the unexpected, extraordinary elsewheres the music has taken me: the misty ebb and flow of Charles Lloyd’s saxophone, the swampy backroads of Charlie Hunter’s 8-string; the ink-dark, maze of singer Jimmy Scott’s 3AM broken heart;  James Carter’s sweaty time-traveling in a funky “Wayback Machine" in the guise of a soul jazz trio; pianist Jean Michel  Pilc’s complex mathematical equations played out in real-time just inches before us.  Often those nights, the Bakery felt like someone's private loft space, a workshop/laboratory and we'd just stumbled upon it -- our luck, someone had just left the door open just for us.
-- Lynell George

I've been enjoying nights at the Jazz Bakery almost since I arrived in LA in 2000, but my favorite night was about half a dozen years ago when I arranged a field trip of KPCC employees to the Bakery.