Lizz Wright and Regina Carter

Better yet, the 18 musicians — arranged in different groupings — played full-out without overindulging. Tenor sax didn’t fare well — Lew Tabackin and Joe Lovano exerted themselves mightily to little effect amid drums, bass, and Symphony Hall reverb. Tabackin did far better alone with his flute — unamplified — on Django Reinhardt’s “Nuages.” Branford Marsalis sliced through the air on soprano in a duet with Joey Calderazzo on the pianist’s “Breeze Dance.” Then he showed Lovano how to deal on “Softly, As in a Morning Sunrise,” taking the tempo way down so his big rounded tenor notes carried. Lizz Wright, a powerhouse singer, was smart enough not to push her voice — accompanied by pianist Geri Allen, she just opened her mouth let the music pour out, conversationally, on “Here’s to Life” and “Reaching for the Moon.” Violinist Regina Carter brought her solo on Luiz Bonfá’s “Manhã de Carnaval” (from Orfeu negro|Black Orpheus) down to a whisper. Pianist Michel Camilo played unaccompanied, one song, his “Caribe,” which he said Joyce always requested. With his beautiful touch, command of harmony, and rooted Latin dance rhythms, he drew a direct line from Chopin to Jelly Roll Morton. He brought the house down. When Herbie Hancock later emerged, he had no choice but to underplay Camilo, pecking out a pop melody in a spontaneous improvisation — then the chords filled out, the harmonies became unhinged, and he drifted into the chromatic language of Ravel and Debussy. Another quiet high point.