For me, music has long been in a category similar to wine. There is adventure in the sampling, the taste test of an untried varietal, a finer variation on a familiar one. Montréal at Jazz Festival time is a music-taster's dreamland. From noon on, during the week and a half of the festival in early summer (this year June 27 to July 7), it is virtually impossible to walk anywhere in the Place des Arts, the magnificent plaza that forms the core of the festival venues, or sit in a sidewalk café along its perimeter, without the serenade of some form of musical accompaniment.

Otis Taylor plays the blues

I didn't know where to begin. Since I'm a great fan of the blues, I thought that would be a good place to start. That particular genre was showcased at the northwest corner of the Place des Arts, where the accent was on instrumental, acoustic guitar. Here the stylings of Otis Taylor were concentrated on the first five frets of his vintage Epiphone archtop, most plucked or strummed with his thumb (with great finger work added, when he employed it).

"They told me not to sing," Taylor said to his audience, after an audaciously bluesy instrumental opener, with some killer riffs. "But they said I could talk to you."

"Sing," someone shouted.

"I guess I can sing if you clap loud enough," Taylor replied.

I'd sampled his CD, "White African," in the press room, then ran out and bought it, so I was among those in the crowd clapping like mad. The jazz fest rep nodded his head and we were treated to Taylor's full effect.

"We all gotta die," he baritoned, "but some people gotta suffer before they die..."

Now that, my friends is what I'm talkin' about. Blues.

By 8 p.m. the streets in and around the plaza were wall-to-wall people, their attention glued to soundstages like the one in front of the huge Complexe Desjardin shopping mall, where Rockin' Dopsie Jr & the Zydeco Twisters were stirring it up, Dopsie singing and playing a flexible, metal "washboard," draped down his chest like chain mail, backed by a thumping band, blasting out their Cajun version of "Jambalaya." I was part of a thin line snaking through the crowd. I wanted to stop and stare, but that would clot the only path through the tight clutch of humanity.

The audience for the Steve Hill concert at the Spectrum was a mix of generations ranging from those in their early 20s to diehard rock 'n rollers who grew up with the music of the 60s (as I did). Hill was right out of that hard-charging guitar genre, who for decades entertained us with two verses, two choruses, a killer guitar solo, one or more verses and choruses. They now label this music, too, "blues," although its presentation is a far cry from the acoustic style of Otis Taylor. However, there's no question it is rooted in a Mississippi Delta ancestry that follows a line the recently departed master of same, John Lee Hooker, once described as (I'm paraphrasing here): man meets woman, man loses woman, man pines over her, man meets bad fate - alcohol, even death - or, on rare occasions, wins her back. Steve Hill is a hard rocker and he packed the house at the Spectrum - really a large club more than concert hall, i.e. tables, a dance floor, bar doing a brisk business throughout the concert. The crowd left little question that there is still an audience for ol' time rock 'n roll when it is rooted in blues, even if it's just basic chord changes and bending notes. And the audience is an international one, certainly judging from all the languages present at the Spectrum that night. There remains this misplaced need to play at ear-splitting amplitudes - the bar at the far corner of the room was vibrating - but hey, there are always prices to be paid.

For jazz saxophonist Michael Brecker, the audiences were older, clearly more genre-knowledgeable. Where there were young people, they shuffled behind parents who were clearly attempting to plant a notion, a down-the-road thing like a time release capsule, perhaps even one of those 17-year cicada effects. It reminded me of my grandfather trashing my rock 'n roll and turning up the volume on his crackling, floor-model radio so I'd be injected with those foreign sounds of arias whose beauty did seem to spring from my head, fully formed, years later. But jazz improv's principal asset is its principal liability for the uninitiated, the inability to stay with some predictable melodic line, the dissonance that is an ever-present element. To appreciate the music, you need to let your sense of adventure take hold, step out of your comfort zone, address the future with your chest bared. If you do expose yourself to the often-achieved wonders of these sounds, you can experience a solo, like Brecker's in a tune called "Pools." It was one of those had-to-be-there things life can spring on you. But this night had a number of those: Joey Calderazzo solos on piano and Mike Mainieri on vibes.

Winner of the festival's Miles Davis Award, Brecker was spotlighted in the "Invitation Series," soloing five consecutive nights with five different groups. It was clear from the moment he began to speak at a press conference announcing his award that he is a man of intelligence, so representative of the jazz artform.

The sound stage at the Complexe Desjardins mall

"I am thrilled to take part in the Invitation Series," he allowed, modestly. "It is somewhat of a task, playing with five different groups, but so worth it. They are some of my favorite musicians. It does require somewhat of a shift in mindset, a shift compositionally. But, it is a matter of listening. I am looking forward to stretching out, taking risks. Risks in music are exciting. We will be presenting some of my new music. It is the first time we will be playing acoustically."

Brecker, a man in his early 50s, said the time in his life where he felt he was creating his own sound, the gelling of his musical personality, did not come until he was 36 or 37. It had taken years to reach a level where he felt he was making his own statement.

"Jazz is an artform where artists are creating new music in real time," he said. "That is an exciting listening experience and a visual experience when you see it live. It is an experience virtually unduplicated in other artforms. Jazz musicians have learned a language and we all speak different versions of it, not in words, but in shapes, rhythms and colors. Basically, we get out there and let it all hang out."

While Brecker's music is new and often radically innovative. Diana Krall is making her name remaking jazz standards in her own image.

"It's good to be home," Krall said, as she strode on stage at the main concert hall before an audience whose wild cheers were a reaction I associated more with pop icons than a jazz chanteuse. "They keep inviting me back here." (Her hometown is Nanaimo, a suburb of Vancouver in British Columbia.) And, why wouldn't they. She has become a phenom, winning a jazz Grammy a couple of years ago and playing to greater and greater audiences around the world.

There was a smattering of 20-somethings among the concertgoers, perhaps in deference to Krall's own tender age, but most of the audience was 30s and up. However, a goodly number were toward the lower end of that demographic, which said to me there was still a significant number of people out there who were not prepared to let the melody die. Maybe it was an upwardly mobile thing, some need to demonstrate sophistication by appreciating a young, vibrant pianist with an economy of flash and a cornucopia of substance, a vocal stylist whose musical phrasings added the fifth instrument to the piano, guitar, bass and drums you saw on stage, and take you to that other dimension inside her soul. The smoky, incredibly romantic timbre of her voice somehow belied her cheerleader looks.

She played and sang beautifully arranged versions of "Fly Me to the Moon," "Let's Face the Music and Dance," "I've Got You Under My Skin," among others. They'd had to add a second show to accommodate all the requests for Krall tickets and by the time she encored at the latter, her voice was failing. The audience would have stayed there all night if she went on performing.

Music until midnight at Place des Arts

Whatever the basis of this experience, once you are exposed to Krall's lavish sound, you would have to fight not to succumb to its effect. It's not a matter of its boring its way into you and rooting around your synapses. It washes over you and pulls you into its universe. You are dancing inside it, as opposed to it scratching inside you. Krall IS about the music and the lyrics, that glorious blend of sound and language that has captivated mankind for however long people have been gathering in audiences.

Charlie Haden, an American bassist and Gonzalo Rubalcaba, a Cuban pianist, who have bridged the political gap between their two countries by playing together many times during the past dozen years, have collaborated on an album called "Nocturne." It showcases boleros, a musical genre that appeared in Cuba early in the 20th century, then emigrated throughout Latin America. They did a live performance of the cuts on the album.

Rubalcaba first played here in 1988 in one of the free street venues. The fact that he now plays the top ticket indoor arenas is a testimony to the festival's discovery process. The fact that Haden returns year after year is a result of his highly creative energy, which keeps him churning out new material and the festival's recognition of that.

"In these collaborations, we look to open things," Rubalcaba said, "to improvise, no limits. I've always wanted to work with musicians from both North and South America, because I've always wanted to open things up as much as possible."

"Much of this collaboration evolved out of music being played during the 30s, 40s and 50s in Cuban dance halls, clubs and casinos," Charlie Haden said. "The feeling I have when I make a recording like this is that I wanted to be there. It is beautiful to improvise with the spontaneity of these musicians because they come from this tradition. Before this collaboration, people in North America were exposed only to the faster paced boleros coming from other Latin countries. I wanted audiences to hear these beautiful, slower tempos."

Attending the festival will place you within the sphere of many a jazz great, in the lobbies of hotels, having a cocktail, grabbing a bite at a sidewalk café. One afternoon, I bumped into Oliver Jones, an exquisite jazz pianist whom I'd last seen with his trio at Sweet Basil's in Greenwich Village, years before. Jones, a native Canadian, said he'd retired from the club and recording scenes, but works now on the du Maurier Arts Council funding the work of other jazz artists.

During the festival, I stayed at the Hôtel Wyndham Montréal. Aside from lovely rooms, impeccable service, all of it with pleasant smiles, the hotel fronts on the Place des Arts, so you simply spin through the revolving doors and you are in the thick of things. It also connects to the Complexe Desjardins shopping center with a wide selection of stores and eating places. My favorite spot for lunch and dinner was the Baton Rouge, right in the hotel. The restaurant has a sidewalk café that fronts on the Place des Arts, so you can watch the music-lovers stroll by, and catch the sounds from a trio of stages nearby. However, because of its prime location, it is sometimes difficult to get a seat outside. Food is typical pub fare: burgers, chicken dishes, ribs and ribs in combination with chicken and shrimp. Montréal is noted for its great culinary range. However, although I really do enjoy exploring a city's gustatory delights - especially one with the rep of a Montréal - this trip was about the music and I chose never to stray too far away.

The 2002 edition of the festival will include another array of major performers from North America and abroad, including renowned trumpeter and multiple Grammy-winner Winton Marsalis and his septet; Dianne Reeves, winner of a Grammy for best jazz vocal album; Omara Portuondo, the only female vocalist in Cuba's mythical Buena Vista Social Club; reclusive country/rock/blues/jazz guitarist J.J. Cale; French guitar whiz Marc Ribot.

For information about tickets, call, toll-free, 1-888-515-0515; or visit online at www.montrealjazzfest.com. For information about rooms at the Hôtel Wyndham Montréal, call 1-800-361-8234. For info on other accommodations, call Tourism Québec, 1-800-363-777.