Latin America, which covers everything from Baja on down to Cabo de Hornos, is a considerably larger area than English-speaking North America, and it encompasses an incredible amount of countries and cultures. Yet as far as jazz is concerned, you can pretty much boil the entire area down to two distinct locales: Cuba and Brazil. Leaving the Mexican mariachi and Argentine tango for another discussion, it’s the Cuban salsa and the Brazilian bossa nova that have made the most profound impacts on world popular music. Both forms were represented in New York this week at their highest levels when the Brazilian-born singer Rosa Passos sang at the Allen Room and the Latin Jazz All-Stars, under the direction of trombonist Steve Turre, arrived for a week at the Iridium in memory of two fallen amigos.

Although both forms are associated with dance music, Cuban music is easily the more dynamic. One very wise Cuban musical philosopher once proclaimed that the essence of his country’s music was drums, and that everything else was secondary. The various Cuban styles (mambo, merengue, rhumba) are all associated with larger bands, and though there are Cuban piano trios, they are generally attempted with groups of six or more players, and almost always with multiple percussionists. Cuban music is explosively polyrhythmic: The Latin All-Stars include Phoenix Rivera on trap drums, Pete Escovedo playing timbales, and Chembo Corniel on congas. At Iridium this week, the three continually laid down layers of different rhythms within their own playing, which interlocked with one another to produce a rich tapestry of sound, even when no traditional melodic or harmonic instruments (such as Arturo O’Farrill’s piano or Junior Terry’s bass) were playing.

This was a highly unusual front line (the exuberant flautist Dave Valentin and master conguero Candido Camero are due to appear this weekend), featuring three brass pieces (Mr. Turre and Jimmy Bosch on trombones, plus the veteran trumpeter Ray Vega) but no saxophones, except for two guests on several tunes. The group played one jazz standard, Miles Davis’s “Milestones,” a suitable piece in that when it was first introduced in 1958, it reflected the influence of Latin music in its bouncy 6/8 rhythm as well as in its quasi-modal harmonic framework. This provided a cue for a surprise guest, Kenny Garrett, to step in on alto saxophone. Propelled by the powerful five-piece rhythm section, he soloed with even more fire and gusto con brio than he typically does in his own groups.

The Iridium show was dedicated to two late giants of the genre, the pianist Hilton Ruiz and the baritone saxophonist Mario Rivera (father of the drummer). Mr. Turre composed two memorial pieces for the occasion, the set’s joyous opener, “Friends Together,” and the more melancholy “Farewell My Friends.” The latter was as close as Cuban music can come to a dirge, and even so, it was more romantic than funereal, especially in Mr. O’Farrill’s mournful solo, which emphasized slow and low notes.

Another attribute of Cuban-style music is that it’s deceptively subtle, which may seem like a funny thing to say about a sound that’s usually loud and brassy. Contrastingly, the subtleties of Brazilian music are much easier to hear (the subtleties themselves are less subtle, you might say), especially because the Latin rhythms are understated rather than overt. Last weekend, Jazz at Lincoln Center commemorated the 50th anniversary of the Bossa Nova (the moment when the new sounds of Antonio Carlos Jobim and Joao Gilberto were first captured on recordings) with two concerts starring three different ensembles, all of which used a conventional North American trap drummer and no additional percussion players.

At first, the voice of Rosa Passos seems somewhat thin and nasal, which gives her singing a slightly flat quality in the ears of North American listeners. Don’t worry; the ear adjusts soon enough. I don’t know if I could call Ms. Passos the greatest living vocalist in all of the various Pan-American idioms, but she certainly is the best that I’ve heard and one of the few who sustains my interest for extended listening. I associate Latin singers with all kinds of vocal effects, whether the results are brilliant (as in the case of the late Celia Cruz) or cheesy (Tania Maria, Flora Purim), but Ms. Passos sings every song as simply and melodically as possible. She brings a conviction and a gently swinging rhythm that I wish were more prevalent among English-speaking vocalists who sing North American standards.

Ms. Passos is supremely musical. She has fun outside the melody of a song, but never twists or distorts it. She’s agile with the beat, as well, and includes occasional non-verbal passages. But even though she doesn’t improvise or scat in the currently popular vocal-exhibitionist fashion, there is still a beautifully instrumental quality about her work. It’s hardly a hindrance that she sings entirely in Portuguese; she could be singing about taking out the trash for all I know but, like the great jazz soloists, each vocal tells a definite story that I create in my head. Regardless of the language barrier, she assembles a wide variety of moods. (In a tune such as “So Danco Samba,” which Ms. Passos sang last Friday, the lyrics are mostly just time-markers, whether in Portuguese or English.)

Ms. Passos included “Doce Presença” in her opening set last Friday (it’s also the first track of her fine new album, “Romance,” on Telarc), dedicating the song to its composer, Ivan Lins, who was appearing across the hall in the Rose Theater. (Regrettably, though Mr. Lins is a superior composer, on a level not far behind Mr. Gilberto and the late Jobim, his own band is a wishy-washy, electronic smooth jazz disappointment. On Saturday, he came off much better when he sat in informally with the excellent Trio da Paz, who opened the show for him.)

Unlike the highly dynamic Latin Jazz All-Stars, Ms. Passos held our concentration almost entirely without raising or lowering her voice. It’s to her credit that she can keep a crowd spellbound (even amid such potential distractions as ultra-annoying lights from a movie being shot outside in Columbus Circle and a cell phone going off in the Allen Room) no less capably than an entire Cuban band with five horns and three drummers.

wfriedwald@nysun.com