On this day a friend took me to see a jazz singer named Kurt Elling at the Triple Door. The experience made me realize I had never before seen a man sing jazz live, let alone a well-dressed man. I didn't know anything about Kurt Elling, who turned out to be a characterful vocalist. A lot of what he did this time (the early show of two that night) was in the ballad area, but a few of the numbers did range toward the wild. I wouldn't call any of it experimental, but they weren't playing it easy either, and the soloists in the band were all top-notch. Guest trumpeter Marquis Hill came out for at least the last half the set, and he had a satin-smooth virtuoso technique, never shrill even from our seats right up against the stage. And in one song Elling matched the timbre of the vocal line to that of the guitar playing high up its range, a quiet but penetrating effect.