NEW YORK CITY–For one reason or another, I’d never been to Dizzy’s Club, which is part of Jazz at Lincoln Center, hard by the shops at Columbus Circle. (That’s one way of saying it’s in kind of a mall.)

Allan Harris at Dizzy’s. (Jim Motavalli photo)

I couldn’t have picked a better act to see there than Allan Harris, a jazz singer I’ve admired for a long time (but never seen). The New York Times calls him “a “protean talent” who “is best known for his takes on jazz standards,” and adds, “Mr. Harris flaunts his musical showmanship for the stage.” Here’s my interview with Harris in New York City Jazz Record. Go to page 6.

I’m fascinated by Harris’ musical, Cross That River, which was produced to sold-out acclaim on Broadway and still gets performed. Harris and I are both interested in America’s frontier, and his musical and my new book, The Real Dirt About America’s Frontier Legends, point out that African-American and Hispanic cowboys rode the West. At Dizzy’s, he pointed out that a very high percentage of such range riders were “people of color,” but it’s rarely dealt with in the history books.

Harris picks up his guitar now and then. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Harris is extremely relaxed on stage; probably because as a constant tourer, he’s on them a lot. Joking with the audience, calling out old friends, asking about a new baby, it’s all part of the plan. His wife is his manager.

In New York, Harris performed an excerpt from Cross That River, but he also offered his deep insights into those standards, including “I Remember You,” “Fly Me to the Moon,” “I Wish You Love” and “Walkin’ My Baby Back Home.” I particularly enjoyed hearing the 1941 Johnny Mercer tune “Remember,” because I heard Chet Baker singing it on the way in to the city. Harris’ less wistful but still emotionally full version was just as good or better.

Harris also did some of his tribute to Eddie Jefferson music, including takes on Horace Silver’s “Sister Sadie” and Miles Davis’ “So What.” He’s right that Jefferson’s lyrics and vocalese for classic jazz tunes should be better known, and he’s a perfect interpreter of the material.

When he picked up his guitar and performed some of his own songs, Harris was more in the mode of a smooth blues belter, Jimmy Witherspoon, maybe, or B.B. King.

Kudos to Harris for hiring women (in the piano and drum chairs), and for taking the crack band on the road for an extended tour–to Italy, Sardinia, Turkey, Russia, London and Berlin, among others. And the group had just gotten back from Australia.

The protean Allan Harris deserves to be heard by a wider audience–and not just in the four corners of the world. Here’s a little bit of Cross That River on video: