Bermudian vocalist Craig Lemont Walters, who lives and works in Germany, returned to Bermuda to deliver a programme of standards for the Bermuda Festival on Tuesday.

He was accompanied in this endeavour by an international trio led by German pianist Marc Schmolling, with Canadian Jonathan Robinson on upright bass and Czech Juri Rasi on drums.

Mr. Walters had advised us in advance of the concert that his repertoire would not be limited to jazz; instead he had chosen songs that were standards from other eras.

Hence the opening tune, 'Route 66', which had made its last Festival appearance in the hands of Gita Blakeney a few nights earlier.

Most recently made famous by the likes of Chuck Berry, the Rolling Stones and subsequently almost everyone in rock and roll, the song was composed in 1946 by Bobby Troup. It first saw the light of day in a laid-back version by Nat King Cole, the path successfully adopted by Mr. Walters.

Tunes by Lennon and McCartney ('And I Love Her') and Stevie Wonder ('Knocks Me Off My Feet') followed, and one began to wonder whether the Festival might face action under the Trades Description Act (if there were one in Bermuda). Jazz this wasn't, although standards delivered in a jazzy style it was.

From there, Mr. Walters took a distinct turn towards the real thing and more or less stayed there until the interval. Returning to the stage for the second half of the show, he delivered a strong catalogue of tunes written by or associated with Edward (Duke) Ellington.

Mr. Walters is plainly a huge Ellington fan, and he took time to recount the story of how Billy Strayhorn had written 'Take the A Train', the Duke's signature tune, which Mr. Walters delivered with style. Mr. Ellington's instructions to Mr. Strayhorn on how to find his home in Harlem included the phrase 'Take the A Train', a reference to the New York subway.

The tune is steeped in musical lore. The Duke needed a new signature tune when ASCAP, the music licensing agency, raised its fees for broadcast music in 1940. Mr. Ellington's son Mercer reportedly recalled that he found the song in a trash can after Mr. Strayhorn discarded it, feeling that it too closely resembled a Fletcher Henderson arrangement.

Quite my favourite story is of a starched-shirt BBC radio announcer introducing a recording of the tune, in a plummy voice, as 'Take Thee a Train'.

The audience was deeply appreciative of almost every note the quartet delivered. What wasn't to like? A son of the soil, who learned at least some of his chops in the St. Paul AME Church choir, leading a spirited band working its way through a book of tunes that everyone knows and loves. On that basis, the evening was a triumph.

And yet ...

Mr. Walters is clearly happiest in the lower ranges. His bass is firm, sustained and convincing. On the night, however, his work in the upper range was less so. This may not be a fair criticism since the sound seemed unbalanced and as a result, Mr. Walters sometimes did not dominate it, so much as accompany it. Of his talent, there is no doubt. Maybe City Hall was the wrong venue for these tunes.

Somewhere more intimate and smokier might have done the trick, although the one would have meant a reduced audience and the other criminal charges.

Mr. Schmolling played with spirit, quoting liberally from one tune while playing another. Mr. Robinson broke a string on his double bass and managed to play on. Mr. Rasi, one sensed, played within himself throughout the programme.

A greater focus on instrumental music might have been interesting, but, after all, this was a night for Mr. Walters and for Bermuda in its 400th year of continuous inhabitation.