If all concerts were as enjoyable as this, jazz would surely not suffer such a troublesome image problem. Elegantly staged and full of joie de vivre, the opening bash of the London Jazz Festival hit all the right notes. As a troupe of singers took turns in the limelight, Guy Barker turned in a prodigious performance, guiding the massed brass and strings through a wide range of material.

Never mind that - as MC Clarke Peters could not resist pointing out - some of the anniversaries we were celebrating seemed somewhat contrived: all that connected much of the material - ranging from Irving Berlin to Quincy Jones and Burt Bacharach - was that the number eight figured somewhere in the date. What mattered most was the vivacious performances, with Madeleine Bell, Christine Tobin, Liane Carroll, Carleen Anderson and surprise guest Jamie Cullum all intent on setting off fireworks.

Amid the flamboyance, Melody Gardot's wistfully introverted contribution stood out even more sharply. She may only be in her early twenties, but the American singer- songwriter possesses the poise of a true star. Barker summoned up a brooding film noir backdrop on Black Coffee. Gardot can make the smallest gesture seem infinitely expressive.

Outnumbered by the ladies, Cleveland Watkiss and Nate James more than held their own in their slots. In spite of the beer bottle he was carrying around, Nigel Kennedy found that he was the squarest person on the stage, just for a change. All credit to him, however, for joining the party. Although Hills of Saturn - played in tribute to the late Esbjörn Svensson - was awash with prog rock guitar clichés, there was rather more substance to his homage to Stéphane Grappelli.

A change of mood the following afternoon, when Steven Bernstein's avant-leaning band, the Millennial Territory Orchestra, staged a family-friendly screening of Laurel and Hardy silent comedies. Any venture which stresses that jazz belongs at the heart of our culture rather than at the periphery must be a good thing, but for all the flashes of playfulness, the brash amplification and Bernstein's studied avoidance of period atmosphere dampened some of the slapstick.

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