To say Cesaria Evora is understated would be, well, understated.

Acknowledged as one of the great practitioners of the morna — the melancholy music of her native Cape Verde — Evora last night headlined the main stage at the TD Canada Trust Ottawa International Jazz Festival.

The "barefoot diva," as she's known for the simple reason that she performs shoeless, strolled on stage with no more fuss than if she were going grocery shopping. Short, stout and seemingly unflappable, she looked every bit a 65-year-old grand-mother (which is exactly what she is).

Then again, who needs razzmattaz when you've got a slightly husky contralto as effortless and full as Evora's?

In fact, who even needs English (Evora sings in Kriolu, a Creole dialect sprinkled with African and Portuguese words) when intonation and timbre spell out your every emotion?

And while Evora may be known as "Queen of Mornas," her concert last night was anything but melancholy. True, there's often an underlying yearning in her vocals, but her set list, from the opener Nutridinha to Mae Africa from her excellent 2006 album Rogamar, consisted of mostly sunny, uptempo tunes, many with Latin American influences.

Evora began her career on the Cape Verde bar circuit in the 1960s and 70s. Faced with economic hardship, she abandoned performing in 1975 to support her family.

Lured back to performing in 1985 by French producer with Cape Verdian roots, Evora released a few albums, including 1992’s Miss Perfumado, that put her on the international musical map at the age of 47. By 2000, she was a multiple Grammy nominee who had collaborated with Bonnie Raitt and Cuban jazz honcho Chucho Valdes.

None of which seems to have had the slightest influence on her stolid personality. Swaying only slightly even when the dancers among her 3ooo? strong audience were bopping furiously, Evora acknowledged the applause with a gracious though barely perceptible nod and the slightest twitch of her lips.

The only time she spoke was to introduce the members of her seven-piece band. With a few words of explanation in Kriolu, she then ambled over to a small on-stage table and chair, lit a cigarette, and took a little break while her band played on.

Refreshed, Evora sang a few more tunes. When it was time, she ended her splendid show, seemingly having enjoyed herself in her own unobtrusive way.

By Patrick Langston