The Architect of Swinging Joy: Benny Green’s Living History at Miner Auditorium
Concert Reviews, Jazz, San Francisco Steven Roby Concert Reviews, Jazz, San Francisco Steven Roby

The Architect of Swinging Joy: Benny Green’s Living History at Miner Auditorium

In the steep, intimate amphitheater of the Robert N. Miner Auditorium, pianist Benny Green operated as a "Curator-Virtuoso." His Sunday evening solo recital was a pedagogical and emotional exhibition, synthesizing the distinct dialects of mentors Art Blakey, Ray Brown, and Oscar Peterson into a singular, exuberant voice.

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Arturo Sandoval at SFJAZZ: Bebop Lessons, Cuban Fire, and the Joy of Staying Alive
Concert Reviews, Jazz, San Francisco Steven Roby Concert Reviews, Jazz, San Francisco Steven Roby

Arturo Sandoval at SFJAZZ: Bebop Lessons, Cuban Fire, and the Joy of Staying Alive

At 76, Arturo Sandoval transformed SFJAZZ’s Miner Auditorium into a masterclass of Afro-Cuban rhythm and bebop history. Far from a standard holiday recital, his "Swinging Holiday" show blended virtuosity with intimate storytelling—from his black sequined sneakers to a moving tribute to Charlie Chaplin. Read the full review of a night defined by "Cuban fire" and the joy of staying alive.

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Funk as a Commons: Dumpstaphunk’s Collective Groove
Concert Reviews, San Francisco, Jazz, SFJAZZ Steven Roby Concert Reviews, San Francisco, Jazz, SFJAZZ Steven Roby

Funk as a Commons: Dumpstaphunk’s Collective Groove

What if the beat were a social contract? That question lingered over a sold-out Saturday at Miner Auditorium, where Dumpstaphunk approached funk not as escapism but as a shared practice—an agreement to move, listen, and shape tension and release as a community. This thesis emerged in the music, in the crowd, and in the way bandleader Ivan Neville framed the evening: a collective body choosing the groove.

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Groove, Pivot, Repeat — Mino Cinélu’s Four for Miles
Concert Reviews, Jazz Steven Roby Concert Reviews, Jazz Steven Roby

Groove, Pivot, Repeat — Mino Cinélu’s Four for Miles

The room begins with absence—no band, no chatter—just a white gauze curtain hanging like a flag with no country. A looped rhythm creeps in from the edges, dry and sandy, like shoes on stone. Then the words land—Miles Davis on change, on refusing the safe—projected large enough to read and short enough to sting. “If anybody wants to keep creating, they have to be about change.”

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