“The course of true love never did run smooth.” Vincent Gardner, trombonist and, for this occasion, musical director of the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra, paraphrased this line from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” on Saturday evening. The concert itself was a case in point: When the event was first announced a year or so ago, it seemed like the emphasis was going to be on new music in the form of commissions from three saxophonist-composers, Erica vonKleist, Kurt Bacher, and the veteran Frank Foster.

By showtime, however, the presentation had morphed into “Songs of Romance,” in which the works by the two younger writers (roughly 10 minutes each) were folded into a general program of vintage jazz arrangements of mostly well-known love songs. On top of which, Mr. Foster’s piece turned out to be something else entirely, but one which also intermingled new compositions and standards.

For the first half, Mr. Gardner put together a diverse mix of arrangements by major jazz writers to complement the new pieces, including two outstanding charts from the Gerry Mulligan Concert Jazz Band (“Sweet and Slow” and Bill Holman’s take on “Out of This World”), with Joe Temperley taking top honors on baritone sax; two associated with Count Basie (Ernie Wilkins’s “You’re Driving Me Crazy” and Quincy Jones’s “So Young, So Beautiful”), and two small-group hard-bop treatments: Freddy Hubbard’s version of “Body and Soul,” spotlighting JALCO newcomer Tatum Greenblatt, and Art Blakey’s twist on the Benny Carter classic “When Lights Are Low,” with drummer Ali Jackson Jr. replicating Blakey’s signature press rolls.

Of the new pieces, Mr. Bacher came out to conduct his own “Duet,” the main features of which were solos by trumpeter Marcus Printup and alto saxophonist Sherman Irby, though not exactly together in a conventional duet form, over a contrapuntal, polyrhythmic background. If “Duet” was vaguely tropical, though not completely Latin, Ms. vonKleist’s “I’ll Call You a Cab” was set in a more Asian-sounding minor, with a boppish melody and a hard-as-nails trumpet solo from Sean Jones. Both pieces were fast-moving, set in multiple segments despite their short length, and made their points quickly before wearing out their welcome. The first half finished with Slide Hampton’s arrangement of “Song of Delilah,” which extended the minor-key Eastern atmosphere and set the famous Victor Young melody to a kind of Baghdad boogaloo.

The second half of the evening was essentially a concept album in concert form. Frank Foster (who turns 80 this year), the legendary arranger-composer best known for his work with Count Basie (and, subsequently, as leader of the Basie Orchestra), combined original songs (with his own words as well as music) and new treatments of standards into a rough suggestion of a narrative, depicting the highs and lows of relationships.

The JALCO began with Mr. Foster’s beautiful 1971 dedication to his wife, “Cecilia Is Love,” in which the main feature is an amazing reed section blend like none I’ve ever heard before, with a soprano (Victor Goines) leading two flutes, bass clarinet, and alto sax. Then Mr. Gardner introduced what he called his secret weapon, two vocalists who worked with Count Basie in the 1970s, Dennis Rowland and Marlena Shaw. Both have beautiful voices and solid chops, but what they do musically is insignificant compared to the rapport that they immediately establish with an audience. They are both extravagant entertainers who have never been as big as they might be because their sort of thing isn’t easily captured on recordings — each of them is like a movie that’s only mildly diverting on TV but absolutely brilliant when you see it larger than life with a full house on a big screen.

Mr. Rowland struts about the stage playing to the gallery with an outsize voice and personality, rather like a combination of Milt Grayson and Eddie Murphy; Ms. Shaw is well known for her monologues as much as her singing, even infusing a tender ballad with a cautionary tale of how she came home early one day to find her boyfriend in her pink taffeta gown. Both did a lot of head-shaking, eye-rolling, and double takes.

The two singers were so outgoing that the most intimate performances came from the saxophones: Mr. Foster’s brilliant takes on “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes,” featuring a highly nuanced, deeply textured alto solo by Ted Nash, and “The End of a Love Affair,” built around what Wynton Marsalis might call a “saloon tenor” (as opposed to “boudoir tenor”) solo by Walter Blanding. Mr. Rowland then offered a big power-ballad take on “Star Dust,” much more extroverted than I’ve ever heard it (it’s normally melancholy and bittersweet). Ms. Shaw capped the evening by scatting a big brassy arrangement of “Perdido.” The mere fact that they ended this tale of romance with a lament of lost love that’s almost wickedly unsentimental indicated that, one month after the fact, it was hardly Valentine’s Day all over again.

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Freddy Cole is a much more subtle entertainer than Mr. Rowland or Ms. Shaw, and so, even though he also is like catnip to an audience, he also comes across brilliantly on his recent albums. On Thursday, the singer-pianist was the latest honoree in Highlights in Jazz’s long-standing series of tribute concerts, in which producer Jack Kleinsinger assembles a contingent of like-minded players to salute a living jazz icon.

While there’s always romance in the air at a Cole concert, on Thursday I couldn’t help but hear how the evening’s strengths were primarily rhythmic: When boudoir tenorist Houston Person and guitarist Russell Malone got together (aided immeasurably by the brilliant bassist Rufus Reid and drummer Bernard Purdie), they instantly got an irresistible groove going on “Isn’t It Romantic?” (it was), “These Foolish Things,” and “Sweet Sucker,” a fast and frisky blues by Johnny Griffin. These guys have simply got to make an album together.

After a marvelous trio feature for pianist John DiMartino (“Yesterdays”) and short sets for saxist David “Fathead” Newman and singer Cynthia Scott, there wasn’t much time for Freddy Cole to dominate in the second half. But he made the most of his six quartet numbers, even though bassist Elias Bailey was undermiked (which left those famous Cole chords I know so well sounding somewhat hollow). He told one story after another, making songs about walking in the rain (“Wonder Why”), being knocked over by an earthquake (“What Does It Take?”), training fish to somehow walk rather than swim (“Don’t Change Your Mind About Me”), and comparing a woman to a refrigerator (“You’re Sensational”) no longer mere lyrics but true-life tales that sound like they come from firsthand experiences.

The finale, his older brother Nat “King” Cole’s 1946 hit, “Route 66,” found Mr. Cole joined by the whole cast — two tenors, two basses, two guitars, and four-handed piano with Mr. DiMartino — but he hardly needed any guest stars to make his music more exciting. After hearing Mr. Cole sing, you’re surprised when you go outside and the fish aren’t walking around on legs.

wfriedwald@nysun.com