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LENINGRAD JAZZ GROUP PLAYS A UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE

When Americans get the silent treatment, they figure, they're being turned off. However, when Russians give jazz reedman Oleg Kuvaitsev the same treatment, he knows they're turned on. The 42-year-old Russian alto player explained in English that was always precise if not always perfect that Russian audience show absolutely no emotion if they like what they hear, but when they whistle, that's another matter. "When I hear whistles," said Kuvaitsev unleashing three ear-splitting screeches to make his point, "I know I'm doing something they don't like. And if there are enough of them, I get nervous." Kuvaitsev is the leader of the Leningrad Dixieland Jazz Band which performs at 8 p.m.

Wednesday at Miners Foundry before checking in at the Sacramento Jazz Jubilee that begins Friday. The Miners Foundry performance is part of a party to gamer new members of the cultural center. This will be the second time the Russians have toured the U.S. since their first visit in 1987. Unlike the first trip when the musicians had bad case of the yips, the current swing is a piece of cake. "What we're doing now is fun," said Kuvaitsev of the tour that's bringing Leningrad Dixieland to Nevada City. "American audiences are loose; they clap, thy shout, so you know they're enjoying themselves."

Leningrad Dixieland is now in its 33rd year and is only one of too full-time of all professional Dixieland groups in Commonwealth of Independent States (formerly the Soviet Union), according to Kuvaitsev, who joined the band 11 years ago. Oddly, or maybe not so oddly, none of the performers began as the musicians. All started as engineers, architects or in related professions. Kuvaitsev, a native of Bashkiriya, holds an engineer degree from the University of Leningrad, but traded a compass for a clarinet after listening to mainstream American reedman Bob Wilber and Pete Fountain. Kuvaitsev switched to sax later than an injury to a finger on his left hand left him absolutely no feeling in the digit. Depressing a saxophone key takes less pressure than pushing down on a clarinet key, he explained. The reed player's partial disability pales by comparison, however, to the plight of band mate Alexander Usyskin, a highly energized clarinetist in the Benny Goodman tradition. Usyskin, 53, has been sightless since age 22. "Alexander has been with the band from the start," said Kuvaitsev. "He's the only one who can say that." Dixieland remains the most popular form of jazz in his country, according to Kuvaitsev, even though it more usually resembles swing than it does the traditional jazz played in New Orleans. As a result when the band cranks up at the Miners Foundry, you'll be hearing more Duke Ellington and Count Basie than you will Jelly Roll Morton and King Oliver. And even such traditional favorites as "Royal Garden Blues" and "Pretty Baby" will sing right out the door. However, Dixieland jazz is so popular in Russia that the Leningrad band has it's own nightclub in Saint-Petersburg (formerly Leningrad), where it appears when it's not playing in jazz festivals or concerts.

Although music tends to break down language barriers, the King's English occasionally takes a beating from Russian vocalists. "Darktown Strutter Ball" becomes "Darton Stutters Ball" when free-booting banjoist Boris Ershov takes the mike and when drummer Alexander Skrypnik essays "It's Been A Long, Long Time," it's as phonetically correct as it is lacking in emotion. But even if the Russians' band of jazz doesn't got to you, then what Kuvaitsev had to say about the interbational appeal of music and it's effect on world affairs probably will. Speaking in tones choired with tears, Kuvaitsev said: "Music is such a wonderful language because everyone can speak it. Maybe it will lead to peace, maybe it will lead to freedom." He made that remark to me a couple of years ago and little did Kuvaitsev know that the freedom and the peace he cherished so much would come so quickly to his native band. Now that it has, Kuvaitsev would like to think that music, indeed, may have played a role. And who's to say he's wrong?

Cam Miller The Union