MUSCOVITES WANT MORE OF METHENY

When American jazz guitarist Pat Metheny and his group opened their Soviet concert tour in Leningrad, many members of the audience left in bewilderment long before the music stopped. At their final performance in Moscow on Wednesday night, however, the Soviet crowd was on its feet, screaming for more of Metheny’s contemporary sound.

A giant scoreboard in the sports arena where the concerts were stage blinked a message in Russian and English: “The directors of the Dynamo sports complex thank Pat Metheny and his group for their great shows.”

Metheny, 33, is a respected veteran in the world of American jazz yet he is barely known here, and his records and tapes are not sold in Soviet stores.

His group is the most avant-garde band that Goskoncert, the state music agency, has allowed to play in the Soviet Union. For Metheny, however, it was a treat.

“A lot of (Soviet) people come because they see U.S.A.,” he said after the final Moscow show. “But it’s fun for us to play for people hearing our music for the first time. . . . it’s been wild.”

Metheny and his group played the first concert of their Soviet tour in Leningrad on June 8. They gave four performances there, then played five more in Moscow. Now they are scheduled to perform in Kiev four more times before departing for appearances in Italy.

A U.S. Embassy official who traveled with the group said that some members of the audience at the early performances in Leningrad and Moscow apparently had expected more mainstream jazz, such as played by Dave Brubeck in a recent series of concerts, or perhaps even a heavy metal rock style. Whatever their reason, the official said, some spectators left early.

By their third concerts in each city, however, Metheny and his group “had found their audience,” the official said.

Lyle Mays, the group’s keyboard player, said he noticed that several fans showed up more than once. On the final evening in Moscow, he said: “That was our kind of crowd.”

Metheny agreed. Despite the absence of his records and tapes in Soviet stores, he said, some members of the audience had obtained them somehow and appeared to be familiar with the music. But most appeared to be hearing his group for the first time..

Discussions are under way, Metheny said, on the possibility of making a record from the Soviet concerts that would be issued by Melodiya, the state record distributor.

In Moscow, the 5,000-seat hall where the group played was sold out for four of the five nights and hundreds of young people stood outside, hoping to snag a spare ticket. Tickets cost 6 rubles (about $9.50 at the official exchange rate), about two or three times more than the usual price of admission here for ballet, opera or symphonic music.

At the close of the last concert, more than 100 members of the audience gathered in front of the stage to get a closer look at Metheny and other key members of his group. They applauded wildly for keyboard player Mays, drummer Paul Wertico, bassist Steve Rodby and percussionist Armando Marcal. Vocalists David Blamires and Mark Ledford got their share of applause, too.

Demanding an encore, the Soviet fans cheered and whistled; many stood on chairs, defying the standard rules of concert behavior in the Soviet Union.

“I have never seen anything like this,” said one of the few Americans in the jubilant crowd.

“Metheny has reached younger Soviet musicians with a type of music that is very little known here,” said Mark Taplin, a U.S. Embassy cultural officer. “We think it will make quite a lasting impression.”