1 Sem 2012 - Part Twenty-Three

Brad Mehldau Trio
Ode




By Doug Collett
The very first notes of the Brad Mehldau Trio's Ode sound rich, lyrical and full of energy. This may come as a surprise to those unfamiliar with the pianist's work, but loyal followers of Mehldau know he brings an unusual intensity to his work, particularly his solo projects and the collaborations with his trio (currently bassist Larry Grenadier and drummer Jeff Ballard). This, the first studio trio recording since Day Is Done (Nonesuch, 2005), is no exception.
Thus, a homage to the late saxophonist Michael Brecker, "M.B.," might serve as a dramatic conclusion to another artist's album, but here opens a non-stop stream of invention. Multiple eclectic threads appear in Mehldau's playing: classical, ragtime, pop and blues are only the most obvious components of a personal style in which the pianist not only executes the structure, but also communicates the emotional quotient intrinsic to each genre as well.
In a restatement of the main melodic motif of "26," the threesome take some relative respite during the otherwise breathless performance, while "Dream Sketch" lives up to its evocative title: piano, bass and drums subtly tradeoff rhythm amid melodic duties during the course of the track. The individual virtuosity and collective camaraderie of Mehldau, Grenadier and Ballard is a wonder to hear because it is so rare and so deeply ingrained in their relationship.
The trio is in tune not just with each other but with the material itself. Each musician proffers intricate detail on their respective instrument. In his explanatory essay on the CD's enclosed booklet, Mehldau explains the thought process behind the conception and execution of composing and playing in general, but also as it applies to Ode; the deep thought and reflection he brings to his writing and performance also illuminates the creative process in general.
Not surprisingly, there is an inherent musicality to the prose, similar to that which arises from Mehldau's musicianship and that of his band mates. The dynamics are impeccable as the individual selections unfolds as an album; while Mehldau sets the tone on a given cut, such as the playful air on "Twiggy," it is at the initial appearance of the rhythm section, when it picks up on that atmosphere, that grows exponentially through the track. Each musician embroiders the tune itself and interacts with his partners in a lighter than air piece that, like the other 11 tracks here, becomes a direct reflection of its subject (here a facetious nickname for Brad Mehldau's wife).
Other sources of song on Ode include the pianist's child ("Days of Dilbert Delaney"), other musicians ("Kurt Vibe," for guitarist Rosenwinkel), motion picture characters ("Eulogy for George Hanson," Jack Nicholson's character in the film Easy Rider) and comic book heroes ("Aquaman"). The explanation of the imaginary persona of "Stan The Man" reaffirms that, contrary to his often dour expression-not to mention the academic tone of his prose-Brad Mehldau does indeed have a sense of humor.
In the cover photos of the disc, the musicians in the Brad Mehldau Trio are beginning to show their age, but the graying hair and lines on their respective visages, like the music within the digi-pak, is a sign of the maturity, experience and wisdom they present with uncommon clarity.
Tracks:
M.B.; Ode; 26; Dream Sketch; Bee Blues; Twiggy; Kurt Vibe; Stan the Man; Eulogy for George Hanson; Aquaman; Days of Dilbert Delaney.
Personnel:
Brad Mehldau: piano; Larry Grenadier: bass; Jeff Ballard: drums.


Yoko Miwa Trio
Live at Scullers Jazz Club




By Dan McClenaghan
Is live always better? Does the no second takes, out-on-a-limb aspect of playing in front of a live audience, and feeding off its energy result in the best recordings? It seems to work that way for Boston-based pianist Yoko Miwa on Live At Scullers Jazz Club, a mix of tunes from The Great American Songbook and the world of rock, shuffled in with her own outstanding compositions. An original pressing of a hundred copies of the show—done as a memento for the audience members this particular night—garnered such a positive response that Miwa decided to have the music remixed and mastered for a general release.
Miwa displays an impressive stylistic range. Opening with a rousing take of Steve Allen's "This Could Be the Start of Something," the pianist and her trio mix a bouncy elegance with a full-bore forward momentum. Miwa treats the melody with reverence, riding a inexorable rhythmic wave supplied by bassist Greg Loughman and drummer Scott Goulding. Virtuosic but unrelentingly accessible, the pianist stretches out, taking eleven minutes to explore this Great American Songbook gem with glorious grace.
Miwa, in the manner of fellow pianist Brad Mehldau, is no jazz snob. She doesn't limit herself to the standards. She covers Steven Tyler's (of Aerosmith) dark toned "Seasons of Wither," giving the tune sparkle, and turns in a pensively beautiful rendition of Lou Reed's Velvet Underground song, "Who Loves the Sun?," featuring the trio at its most interactive.
Miwa adds three of her own top-notch compositions to the mix. "The Wheel of Life" rises and falls to mirror the vicissitudes, struggles, joys and sorrows of human existence. "Mr. B. G." is a nod to pianist Benny Green and, through Green, his mentor Oscar Peterson, with an ebullient groove and Miwa's exquisitely succinct touch.
Trumpeter Art Farmer's "Mox Nix" shows off Miwa's ability to get deep into the blues and play with a muscular left hand percussion married to a lightning fast right hand, before ending with vocalist Milton Nascimento's "A Festa." It's a saucy closer, with the trio immersing itself in a gorgeous Brazilian groove to wrap up a stunningly spontaneous live set, Miwa's best recording to date.
Track Listing:
This Could Be the Start of something; Wheel of Life; Mr. B.G.; Seasons of wither; Who Loves the Sun; Silent Promise; Mox Nix; A Festa.
Personnel:
Yoko Miwa: piano; Greg Loughman: bass; Scott goulding: drums.


Steve Kuhn Trio
Wisteria




By John Kelman
Context, they say, is everything. With nearly 50 albums as a leader in a career that now spans 55 years—and stints with everyone from saxophonist Stan Getz and flugelhornist Art Farmer to trumpeter Kenny Dorham...even a brief stint with saxophonist John Coltrane—pianist Steve Kuhn's best and most varied work has been across the now-ten albums recorded for ECM. You need only look to Life's Backward Glances: Solo and Quartet (ECM, 2008)—the box collecting 1975's solo piano outing, Ecstasy; 1977's Motility, with his Ecstasy group; and 1980's Playground, the first of two recordings with singer Sheila Jordan—for a localized example of Kuhn's far-reaching outlook on the label that brought transparency and pristine sonic clarity to the jazz world.
Wisteria looks like a standard piano trio outing in contrast to the stellar Mostly Coltrane (ECM, 2009), Kuhn's tribute to his erstwhile employer, with Joe Lovano more than ably filling the tenor chair with a distinctly personal approach. But with electric bassist Steve Swallow replacing Kuhn trio regular, double bassist David Fincke, Wisteria becomes something else again. Sure, Swallow does what a bassist should do (should do, being a dangerous phrase when used to describe players of this caliber): anchor the groove and swing with aplomb. But his warm electric instrument, so often played in the upper register, often crosses into guitar range, making Swallow a more pervasive melodic foil for Kuhn—and one who, like Kuhn, has, by this time in his own 50-plus year career, got nothing left to prove. Likewise drummer Joey Baron, at 56 the relative babe of the group despite collaborating with Kuhn since 1996's Remembering Tomorrow (ECM).
In addition to bringing a fresh perspective to four tracks first recorded on Promises Kept (ECM, 2004)—his thankfully non-saccharine "with strings" project—Kuhn revisits two tracks from outside his ECM work. The comfortably swinging "Chalet," first heard on Countdown (Reservoir, 1998), opens Wisteria with a rubato intro that, by now, has become something of a Kuhn trademark, while the more intense "A Likely Story," from the Japan-only Temptation (Venus, 2003), is driven here by Swallow's near-relentlessly walking bass, peppered with Baron's sharp punctuations. It features one of Kuhn's most flat-out expressionist solos of the set, filled with a kind of unshackled virtuosity that makes his underrated position on the totem pole of important jazz pianists of the last half century an ongoing mystery. Kuhn has all the chops he needs, when he needs them, but never at the expense of building solos of spontaneous construction, always imbued with a distinct sense of form and purpose.
Swallow's reputation as an electric bassist nonpareil is matched only by his renown as a composer with more than one tune a part of the jazz lexicon. Still, the Latin-esque "Dark Glasses" and buoyant closer, "Good Lookin' Rookie," will be new to even the most studied Swallow-phile. Carla Bley's equally little-known ambler, "Permanent Wave," and Art Farmer's balladic title track round out a program of eleven songs that make Wisteria yet another milestone in Kuhn's discography, and a more than worthy follow-up to the critically acclaimed Mostly Coltrane.
Track Listing:
Chalet; Adagio; Morning Dew; Romance; Permanent Wave; A Likely Story; Pastorale; Wisteria; Dark Glasses; Promises Kept; Good Lookin' Rookie.
Personnel:
Steve Kuhn: piano; Steve Swallow: bass; Joey Baron: drums.


Ran Blake & Dominique Eade
Whirpool




By Christopher Loudon at JazzTimes
Simpatico relationships between vocalists and pianists—Shearing and Cole; Evans and Bennett; Bill Charlap and his mother, Sandy Stewart—are hardly unusual. Occasionally, though, such unions transcend sympathetic rapport and become truly empathetic. The finest example on record emerged in 1961, when trailblazing third-stream pianist Ran Blake and singer Jeanne Lee commingled on The Newest Sound Around. Now, a half-century later, Blake achieves very near the same magnificence with Dominique Eade. Actually, these 13 tracks were recorded a while ago, in sessions dating from 2004 and 2008. In fact, this album has been 30 years in the making, demonstrating the continual evolution of their shared sensibility from their first meeting, when Eade transferred to the New England Conservatory expressly for the opportunity to study with Blake (she has long since joined him on the faculty).
When Blake indulges his penchant for film-noir atmospherics, as on “My Foolish Heart,” Eade provides ideally sly and shadowy responses, expertly playing the cunning Bacall to his Bogart. When she reinvestigates her own, hymnlike “Go Gently to the Water” (also included on her previous album, Open, with her NEC mentee, pianist Jed Wilson), Blake paves the way for a freshly ethereal reading. How they pace one another through “Falling,” like concordant harmonic acrobats, is dazzling. It is, however, their two interpretations of “Dearly Beloved,” one coolly cerebral, the other raw with desire, that best demonstrate their interpretive kinship.


Alexis Parsons



By Dan Bilawsky
Chicago-born/New York-bred vocalist Alexis Parsons has often worked with trios, but pares down the instrumental backing for this self-titled release. Alexis Parsons presents eight numbers that pair the singer with piano ace Frank Kimbrough, whose classy, top-shelf accompaniment, combined with Parsons' lovely and occasionally languorous vocals, bring a pleasant, sleepy quality to this music.
A-list material from the likes of Rodgers and Hammerstein ("Hello Young Lovers"), Benny Carter and Sammy Cahn ("Only Trust Your Heart"), and Michel LeGrand and the Bergman's ("You Must Believe In Spring"), demonstrates good taste in the programming department, and Parsons treats each number with the respect it deserves. Six of the eight pieces are slow-drifting numbers that bloom under the care of Kimbrough and Parsons, but the two selections that stand apart from the rest operate in different rhythmic arenas. "Just Squeeze Me" has the requisite amount of vocal sauciness, without ever tipping the balance with overly coquettish behavior, and Kimbrough has a good time, as he shows that he can play the role of the swinging barroom pianist as well as anybody. The other number that's a departure-of-sorts is the oft-covered "Only Trust Your Heart." Kimbrough sets this song adrift with steady piano work that screams for some bossa nova drum backing, but this duo does just fine without it.
The remaining six tracks are glacial and graceful, and they largely succeed due to this pair's willingness to slowly draw out the flavors in each one. While Parsons is occasionally a tad over-dramatic ("The Winter Of My Discontent'), she touches on the right emotional frequencies more often than not, and Kimbrough provides harmonic cushioning that's refined and riveting in its beauty. While the program leans heavily on standards, Parsons looks beyond the jazz borders with "She," from Secret Life (Island, 1995)—Marianne Faithfull's collaboration with composer Angelo Badalamenti. While the source for this song is dissimilar from the rest, the execution of the number makes it feel right at home.
Album highlights, like the icy-turned-impressionistic "Lazy Afternoon" and album-closing "You Must Believe In Spring," tend to highlight Parsons' ability to slowly parcel out a melody in her own inimitable way, but she deserves as much credit for her storytelling abilities as she does for her singing. She inhabits these songs as if they represent her very being, making Alexis Parsons an alluring listen from start to finish.
Track Listing:
The Winter of My Discontent; Hello Young Lovers; Just Squeeze Me; Lazy Afternoon; Only Trust Your Heart; Make It Last; She; You Must Believe In Spring.
Personnel:
Alexis Parsons: vocals; Frank Kimbrough: piano.


Vijay Iyer Trio

Accelerando

by Thom Jurek
It's almost impossible not to consider Accelerando by pianist Vijay Iyer's working trio with bassist Stephen Crump and drummer Marcus Gilmore a companion to 2009's excellent Historicity. Its obvious similarities are that it places a handful of originals alongside a host of cover versions. These come from well-known artists from the worlds of jazz, 21st century dance music, and R&B. But there are key differences, too: for starters, this trio has been together longer; nowhere does that matter more than it does in jazz. The intuitive interplay and collective mindset that this trio possesses are exponentially more mature than they were on Historicity, despite its sharpness and musical acumen. The willingness to take chances is greater, as is the ability to make those risks pay off. Take the reading of "Human Nature," a tune recorded by Michael Jackson for the iconic Thriller. The melody is irresistible and Iyer maintains its framework while he builds on it by syncopating, extrapolating, and coloring it so that it becomes rich with complexity and textures, all the while keeping its melodic integrity. The rhythmic pulse is doubled on the snare, hi-hat, and bass drum. Crump's bass accompanies rather than propels, so his bass is where the groove lies. Heatwave's "The Star of a Story" is likewise melodically intact, but its rhythmic basics are set on a groove that finds funk in waltz time. Iyer discovers subtleties and hidden harmonic corners in his middle register that are remarkable to anyone familiar with the tune. "Mmmhmm," by Flying Lotus and singing bassist Thundercat, is realized with bowed basslines by Crump that both accompany the melody and state it, sparse chordal suggestions by Iyer in the higher register, and a gradually increasing vamp by Gilmore (that sounds like a defective loop because of its intentional slippage), all of which enchant the listener enough to provide Iyer the opportunity to solo using knotty clusters of post-bop dissonance and lyricism. Herbie Nichols' "Wildflower" swings hard with its lean angular line accenting his use of the piano as both a palette of tonal colors and a rhythm instrument. Iyer's own tunes, such as the title track and "Lude," reveal an extensive, purposeful build on jazz history from Thelonious Monk (in the latter) to the future (in the former), where dynamic repetition and gradually complex harmonic multiplications result from simple beginnings. What's most remarkable about these tunes, and the others here, are how consciously danceable they are. The set closes with Duke Ellington's "The Village of the Virgins," from his and Alvin Ailey's jazz ballet entitled The River. The river is obviously the Mississippi; gospel, blues, early jazz, swing, and even 1940s R&B make their voices heard in a nearly processional strut. The trio's interplay takes the structure -- originally performed by a jazz orchestra -- and boils it down to its essences, leaving space for nuance, grace, and elegance. Accelerando is a triumph in creativity and expert musicianship, and further underscores Iyer's status as a genuine jazz innovator.

1 Sem 2012 - Part Twenty-Two

Wolfert Brederode Quartet
Post Scriptum




by William Ruhlmann
Dutch pianist Wolfert Brederode, on his second formal quartet outing (following 2007's Currents), leads his compatriots, clarinetist Claudio Puntin, bassist Mats Eilertsen, and drummer Samuel Rohrer, in a selection of thoughtful, classically influenced jazz on Post Scriptum. The instrumentation may suggest the Dave Brubeck Quartet with Paul Desmond, but if Brubeck represented a brand of "college jazz" in the 1950s and ‘60s, this is strictly graduate school stuff. Brederode and company are on the right label with producer Manfred Eicher's ECM, since they are playing very much in the ECM school of cool European jazz. That's apparent immediately on the appropriately named opener, "Meander," which finds Puntin making like a more laid-back yet freer Desmond in a Brederode composition that will suggest new age to many listeners. Those tendencies continue throughout the disc, although the playing tends to be a little too complex and unpredictable for the new age tag to adhere firmly. The tempos are mostly slow, sometimes extremely so, but "Inner Dance," as its title indicates, has a real rhythm provided by Eilertsen and Rohrer, who otherwise imply beats rather than actually playing them. This is music for the more adventurous jazz listener who is willing to consider improvisatory playing that brings in ambient and contemporary classical aspects.


The Dave Brubeck Quartet
Their Last Time Out




by Ken Dryden
In 1967, Dave Brubeck decided to disband his long-running quartet with Paul Desmond, Eugene Wright, and Joe Morello at the end of the year. Crowds turned out to catch the group for a final time, though this is only the fourth issued live recording from the tour, possibly recorded from the front of the concert hall, since the audience seems more prominent than usual, and the sound is in mono and not quite as well-recorded as the earlier releases, though the performances are of high caliber. The source of these recordings were long forgotten tape reels found in Brubeck’s home by his long time manager Russell Gloyd.
Brubeck kicks things off by launching into one of his perennial favorites to open concerts, "St. Louis Blues," played in a breezy manner similar to their earlier recorded versions. Brubeck's "Three to Get Ready (And Four to Go)" was already a favorite of his fans, while Desmond whimsically inserts a bit of "The Twelve Days of Christmas" into his solo (for this concert taped on December 26), while Brubeck can be heard softly singing along with his solo. The quartet learned the Mexican folk song "La Paloma Azul (The Blue Dove)" prior to their tour of Mexico earlier in the year and it became a staple in Brubeck's repertoire afterward. The pianist is at his most lyrical in this touching ballad, with Desmond's spacious, melancholy alto adding a nice touch, along with Wright's solid groove and Morello's soft brushes. The band sizzles in their treatment of "Take the 'A' Train" and sounds jubilant with their rousing rendition of "Someday My Prince Will Come" to end the first set, both pieces which were part of Brubeck's performance repertoire over four decades later.
To open the second set, the quartet launches a pulsating "Swanee River" in which the leader humorously works the standard "Lullaby of the Leaves" into his solo. Desmond's role is minimal in Brubeck's breezy "I'm in a Dancing Mood," with the focus being on the pianist and Morello. The standard "You Go to My Head" was long a feature for Desmond, who plays an inventive solo with Wright's swinging bass backing his as Brubeck stays mostly in the background. The drummer also has an extended feature to open "For Drummer's Only" to showcase his widely admired technique. It is inevitable that the evening had to close with a rousing performance of the quartet's signature tune "Take Five," which they manage to keep from going stale in spite of having to play it nearly every night after it became a best-selling single. Desmond's humor is in full force in his solo, while Brubeck's feature takes an exotic twist with a Middle Eastern flavor. Fans of Dave Brubeck will welcome the addition of this historic concert to his vast discography.


Lynne Arriale
Solo




By Dave Sumner
Following up on her strong quartet album Convergence (Motema, 2011), pianist Lynne Arriale returns with a solo recording—a risky venture for any artist. In an ensemble setting, a musician has collaborators with whom to work and exchange ideas before the record button is punched, and more importantly, while the session is on the move. In ensemble play, a musician's unformed ideas or sound can be made whole by the other musicians in the ensemble; this is a big reason why group improvisation is such a glorious thing in jazz, that the whole is greater than the sum of its individual parts. Everyone brings something to the moment and it all fits together. However, in a solo project, the musician is completely alone, his/her artistry naked. There is no one to talk to but the listeners themselves. Solo albums are revealing moments, and it is because of that that, when they succeed, they elicit such an emotionally profound reaction. Which brings us to Arriale's Solo.
The opening notes of Solo are symbolic in the ways that count most. "La Noche" begins with discordant notes in descent, a sense of dramatically falling down a flight of stairs. Arriale, however, never loses her balance, never hits ground. Instead, she exudes a grace and control that epitomizes her sound throughout. Can one even fall if they breathe elegance with each step and note? Is it falling or simply flight? Arriale gives no insight into these questions, but provides the thrilling sensation of both.
Much like a brief glimpse, the subtlest touch can convey substantive and heavy emotions, as does Arriale with her expressions on piano. Solo is never fussy, never overbearing. On "Dove," a tune of sublime beauty, Arriale gets everything it is possible to get out of each note without meticulously wringing them dry or ponderously studying them from every angle. Arriale has attained such a level of mastery in her approach that all she requires is a brief moment of polish before she moves on. It would be easy to describe it as effortless, but accuracy would be better honored by supposing that hard work and deliberation has resulted in a near subconscious fluidity of motion and thought. Said differently, Arriale knows what notes she's looking for and can find them right quick.
Solo is a mix of originals and covers. Two of the selections come from Thelonious Monk. On "Evidence," Arriale presents the composition as she sees it, no more, no less. While she passes on attempting a groundbreaking turn on Monk's version, she also avoids doing a by-the-numbers rendition. As such, like the other selections, the tune settles naturally into the flow of the album. The album flow, from first note to last, remains undisturbed, with Arriale alone at the center of it all.
It's all about the elegance.
Track Listing:
La Noche; The Dove; Evidence; Wouldn't It Be Loverly; Will O' The Wisp; Yada, Yada, Yada; Arise; Dance; What Is This Thing Called Love; Sea and Sand; Bye-Ya; And So It Goes.
Personnel: Lynne Arriale: piano.


Lisa Maxwell with The Keith Ingham Quartet
Happy




By C. Michael Bailey
Lisa Maxwell's debut, Return to Jazz Standards (Self Produced, 2010), was well-received when released, marking the New York singer's recovery and comeback from a vocal cord disorder that sidelined her for several years earlier in the decade. Maxwell returns with Happy, a recital of not-so-standard standards, supported by Maxwell's coach, pianist Keith Ingham, and his fine quartet. The result is an evolution in cohesiveness and vision.
In a word, Maxwell's Happy is breezy. Her voice has filled out in all the right places and betrays a youthful, scrubbed, girl-next-door coquettishness. "Pretty" and "unadorned" will also describe this voice. Maxwell's natural instrument is her greatest asset, and her singing philosophy bears the same pretty and unadorned characteristics as her voice. A fan of melody, Maxwell is conservative in her adherence, more often than not. to the composer's melodic intent, demonstrated most clearly in textbook readings of "Someone to Watch Over Me" and "Skylark," two amply road-tested pieces, dusted off here.
Equal in importance to the present recital is the band, under Ingham's tutelage, the pianist turning out to be a most splendid accompanist to Maxwell; his simple, yet elegant arrangements perfectly frame the pure simplicity of Maxwell's voice and approach. Even on upbeat pieces like the opener, "I'll Take Romance," and "Under A Blanket of Blue," the two work with envious simpatico. Maxwell and Ingham coalesce perfectly on the Teddy Randazzo/Bobby Weinstein chestnut "Goin' Out of My Head," Ingham's electric piano and Maxwell's straight-arrow delivery recalling Petula Clark's 1965 recording of the song, flying slower than the speed of sound. The light samba spin is a nice touch.
Maxwell is still interested in the standards, but also shows an interest in musical roads less traveled. "This is Always," "Blue Moon" and "What a Wonderful Guy" are a joy to behold in the hands and voice of this singer. A user-friendly jazz vocalist to the end, Lisa Maxwell is one to behold.
Track Listing:
I'll Take Romance; You Can't Lose a Broken Heart; Sunday in New York; The Folks Who Live on the Hill; It Might As Well Be Spring; Someone To Watch over Me; My Heart Goes with You; This Is Always; Going Out of My Head; Blue Moon; Under a Blanket of Blue; June Night; Skylark; A Wonderful Guy.
Personnel:
Lisa Maxwell: vocals; Keith Ingham: piano; Frank Tate, bass; Al Gafa: guitar; Steve Little: drums; Ben Wittman: percussion.


Falkner Evans
The Point Of The Moon




By Mark Corroto
It is natural to equate a bit of hubris with jazz, but pianist Falkner Evans checks his ego at the door on The Point Of The Moon.
Like his previous trio session, Arc (CAP, 2007), he returns with bassist Belden Bullock and drummer Matt Wilson, but supplements things with the horn frontline of tenor saxophonist Greg Tardy and trumpeter Ron Horton. If it weren't for Evans' name on The Point Of The Moon's cover, it might not seem like his release.
He did, though, pen seven of the nine compositions heard, and also arranged the horns. Like his previous efforts, he displays an inborn sense of swing that fosters an unceremonious harmony in this ensemble. The opener, an Art Blakey-esque march called "Altered Souls," incites with Wilson's rolling introduction of the frontline horns that only slows a bit for Evans to solo, then back to the trumpet and tenor party.
Certainly, Evans writes to the strengths of his players. Tardy's tenor lushness and the soft sound of Horton's trumpet (often mistaken for a flugelhorn) are featured on "Drawing In," and on the modish and snappily arranged standards "O Grande Amor" and "While We're Young." It's just that he constantly downplays his playing. He even employs a fellow keyboardist, Gary Versace, on two tracks. Versace adds organ to the bluesy track "Off The Top," mixing with both Evans and the horns, switching to accordion for the title track. Both are examples of Evans recruiting players for a certain sound. The blues are smoothed out by the note-perfect Tardy, and Wilson's sense of swing is always spot-on.
Track Listing:
Altered Soul; Drawing In; Dorsoduro; Cheer Up; O Grande Amor; Slightest Movement; While We're Young; Off The Top; The Point Of The Moon.
Personnel:
Greg Tardy: tenor saxophone; Ron Horton: trumpet; Gary Versace: organ, accordion; Falkner Evans: piano; Belden Bullock: bass; Matt Wilson: drums.


Cecilia Coleman Big Band
Oh Boy !





By Edward Blanco
The phrase "Oh boy," can be a statement of excitement, an expression of an event that grabs your attention or, in this case, an appropriate reaction to the swinging orchestrations from the Cecilia Coleman Big Band. Oh Boy! is a powerful draw and the debut album from pianist/composer Coleman's new group, presenting thundering big band music of a contemporary nature. Best known for her various working quintet's that have produced five albums since 1992, Coleman formed the group in January 2010 after writing several big band charts for others which in turn, inspired a rehearsal band of her own.
No novice to the large ensemble setting, the pianist previously recorded with the Mark Masters Ensemble of the American Jazz Institute. Though a longtime resident of New York City, Coleman is actually a native of Long Beach, CA, where she commutes regularly to teach at California State University at Long Beach. The Coleman band consists of friends and other musicians she has worked with since 1999, and boasts some of the finest players from the New York area. With renowned saxophonists Peter Brainin, and Bobby Porcelli among the mix of musicians that also includes tenorist Stan Killian, trombonists Matt McDonald, Sam Burtis and Broadway trumpeter Jeff Wilfore.
Playing a few simple bars and disguising what's to come, Coleman introduces "Liar, Liar," a truthfully explosive piece featuring Frank Basile' s blistering baritone saxophone solo, to brassy accompaniment. The enthralling "Dance" follows with the same electricity, delivering another forceful statement and readily affirming the album's muscular sound. "Magpie" is a sprawling, melody-rich sweet tune, with pronounced voices from the reeds and horns in a more mid-tempo arrangement.
"Lonesome Journey" is the project's most sophisticated and ambitious piece, containing its share of twists and turns throughout the almost ten-minute duration. The title track reveals the swinging upbeat and lively texture that made it the disc's natural title choice. All is not swing however, as the balladic "Until Then" and the lightly-structured "Because" offer a departure from the main thrust of the album, as well as featuring brief but sparkling solo work from the pianist.
Cecilia Coleman never set out to become a big band leader, stating that it was "never a dream of mine to have a big band," but the Cecilia Coleman Big Band is her new reality—and Oh Boy!, what a swinging affair, this very first recording effort turns out to be. This is classic big band music infused with a bolt of raw energy and mounds of excitement.
Track Listing:
Liar, Liar; Dance; Pearl; Magpie; Walk Away; Lonseome Journey; Oh Boy!; Until Then; Princess; #1; Because.
Personnel:
Cecilia Coleman: piano; Tim Givens: bass; Jeff Brillinger: drums; Peter Brainin: soprano saxophone; Bobby Porcelli: alto saxophone, flute; Stephan Kammerer: alto saxophone, flute; Geoff Vidal: tenor saxophone; Stan Killian: tenor saxophone; Frank Basile: baritone saxophone; Jeff Wilfore: trumpet; Hardin Butcher: trumpet; Kerry Mackillop: trumpet; John Eckert: trumpet; Don Sickler: trumpet (4); Matt McDonald: trombone; Mike Fahn: trombone; Sam Burtis: trombone; Joe Randazzo: trombone.

1 Sem 2012 - Part Twenty-One

Antonio Adolfo

Chora Baião

By Bill Milkowski at Jazztimes
Brazilian pianist-composer Antonio Adolfo puts a refined, jazz-infused spin on a collection of lively choros and baiaos by the highly respected but under-recognized Brazilian composers Chico Buarque and Guinga. Joined on the frontline by the fantastic guitarist Leo Amuedo and ably supported by the simmering rhythm section of bassist Jorge Helder, drummer Rafael Barata and percussionist Marcos Suzano, Adolfo reveals the influence of Bill Evans and Herbie Hancock in the context of this rich Brazilian fare. Amuedo exhibits a Toninho Horta/Pat Metheny influence on such tunes as Guinga’s “No Na Garganta” and his exhilarating choro “Di Menor,” as well as Adolfo’s title track and his swinging “Chicote.” Adolfo’s daughter Carol Saboya sings Portuguese lyrics on the tender “Voce, Voce,” then delivers ethereal wordless vocals on Buarque’s “A Ostra De O Vento.” The leader also turns in a moving solo piano performance on his melancholy “Chorosa Blues.”

Chano Domínguez
Flamenco Sketches

By Leonardo Barroso

This is by far one the worst jazz albums I ever heard. Chano is a good pianist, with good cd's through out his career.

But his reading of one the most haunting tunes, "Flamenco Sketches", was a murder ! The entire disc is a assassination of what this work could have been.

From the start, the song was a little fast, but okay, well played, then, suddenly, I was not expecting, a "singer" Blas Cordoba (this is not a singer), starts yelling and clapping ! Oh my God !!!!!!

And the rest of the CD goes through that nightmare, until its end.

It's a pity, a great Trio, a fantastic set list, put into waste. 

I wish the best of luck and better judgment next release !    

by Thom Jurek
Spanish pianist Chano Dominguez has made a jazz career in exploring its connections with the flamenco of his native Cadiz. On previous offerings, Dominguez has carved out a place where the various dance rhythms and sung cadences of flamenco find equal voice with jazz lyricism, exploration, and harmonic adventure. Flamenco Sketches began as a commission from the Barcelona Jazz Festival to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Miles Davis' Kind of Blue. The album is a re-visioned reading of the compositions on the iconic Davis album -- in different order -- as well as two other Davis compositions, "Nardis" (which he never recorded) and "Serpent's Tooth," from the trumpeter's Prestige years. Dominguez is accompanied by bassist Mário Rossy and percussionist Israel Suarez, with palmas (handclaps) from Blas Cordoba (who is also the vocalist here) and Tomás Moreno. Recorded live at the Jazz Standard (you can hear glasses tinkling in quieter moments); this recording is filled with the untranslatable flamenco word "duende" (something akin to "intense feeling"). Dominguez even arranged these tunes with dance steps included since they are an integral part of flamenco's rhythmic pulse -- among them are various tangos, bulerias, seguiriyas, and soleas; all are inextricably entwined with post-bop jazz. The 16-plus-minute title track with its elegant solo intro and languid melody commences just before the band gradually applies itself -- with gorgeous rhythm section work amid more pronounced Dominguez arpeggios -- vocalist Cordoba suddenly joins the ensemble with wails and moans in his raw, grainy baritone, extending the tune into flamenco's full musical sphere, but Dominguez never forgets that this is Davis' music he's playing. His solos quote from Bill Evans, Afro-Cuban jazz master Bebo Valdés, and others. The knotty, contrapuntal bop pianistic twists and turns through "Freddie Freeloader" are breathtaking, especially as the palmas, cajon (box drum), and bass find a way to move into one another and create several interwoven grooves simultaneously. "All Blues" remains the most "inside" tune here, but it too pushes jazz boundaries and literally steps inside the wild, creative world of flamenco (via a dance solo). Ultimately, Flamenco Sketches is a triumph, a fully realized portrait of Davis' music that showcases Dominguez as a brilliant pianist and arranger at the top of his game.


Roy Haynes

Roy-Alty



by Alex Henderson
Roy Haynes celebrated his 86th birthday on March 13, 2011. Had the veteran drummer retired from music 30 or 40 years earlier, he still would have gone down in history as someone with a long list of accomplishments. But thankfully, Haynes continued to perform well into his eighties. Recorded in early 2011 (when Haynes was still 85), Roy-Alty is a solid hard bop/post-bop outing that boasts well-known guests like Chick Corea (who is heard on acoustic piano) and trumpeter Roy Hargrove. Corea is featured on two selections: the dusky "All the Bars Are Open" and Thelonious Monk's "Off Minor," while Hargrove is heard on six of the ten tracks (including the insistent "Passion Dance," the standard "These Foolish Things," the Afro-Cuban favorite "Tin Tin Deo," and Miles Davis' "Milestones"). It should be noted that the "Milestones" that Haynes performs on Roy-Alty is the bop standard that Davis played with Charlie "Bird" Parker in 1947, not the modal standard he unveiled in 1958, and playing something with a Bird connection is quite appropriate, given that Haynes was a member of his quintet from 1949-1952 (when the drummer was in his twenties). Most of the songs on Roy-Alty find Haynes employing a group that he bills as the Fountain of Youth (alto saxophonist Jaleel Shaw, pianist Martin Bejerano, and bassist David Wong), and while the personnel can vary from track to track on this 66-minute CD, the constant is Haynes' skillful drumming. After all these years, Haynes hasn't lost his touch as either a drummer or a group leader, and his skills in both of those areas is evident on Roy-Alty, which falls shorts of essential but is nonetheless a pleasing addition to his catalog. 

Tania Maria featuring Eddie Gomez

Tempo

By C. Michael Bailey
"Estate
 Sei calda come i baci che ho perduto
 Sei piena di un amore che è passato
 Che il cuore mio vorrebbe cancellare."

Brazilian pianist/singer Tania Maria is the product of warm and humid climes. Born in Sao Luis in the northwestern part of the country, she emerged into the musical intersection where the bossa of Brazil rubs up against the salsa of the Caribbean. All influences are in evidence on Maria's opening performance of the Martino/Brighetti standard, "Estate." Musically active since the 1970s, Maria's career can be easily sampled with any simple YouTube search. What the intrepid researcher will discover is a force of nature, untethered by any conventional musical wisdom. Maria is that talent whistling past lesser talents.
On Tempo, Maria is joined in duo with bassist Eddie Gomez, with whom she has collaborated in the past. Gomez's role is one expanded beyond mere timekeeper. He is melodically melded with Maria, in both voice and piano. Gomez's empathy with Maria is something greater than that shared between pianist Bill Evans and bassist Scott LaFaro, peppering Maria's art with piquant runs and glissandi. On Antonio Carlos Jobim's "A Chuva Caiu," Gomez's grace and sophistication perfectly complements Maria's cosmopolitanism and broad musical world view.
In Maria's hands, the music is not jazz first, Brazil second; it is very much the opposite. Jazz is the vehicle when she chooses it. Or the blues. Her original, "Yeah Man," is nominally a minor-key instrumental blues that is the least Brazilian recording on the disc, but Maria still manages to season it with the warmth of home. Another original instrumental, "Senso Unico," finds Maria and Gomez squarely in their Latin element, waxing balladic and pensive. Maria's playing is a mirror of her singing, dry sunshine and coconut oil, the smell of the Southern Gulf.
"Dear Dee Vee," another original instrumental, is very much in the samba mode. Maria plays with a effortless momentum betraying her long a successful career. Much like Madonna on the world pop stage, Maria is uncompromising, creatively mercurial, and steadfastly faithful to her vision. This is rare musicianship.
Track Listing: 

Estate; Sentado a Beira Do Caminho; A Chuva Caiu; Yeah Man; Senso Unico; Dear Dee Vee; Bronzes E Cristais; Tempo.
Personnel: Tania Maria: piano, vocals; Eddie Gomez: bass.

Carmen Lundy

Changes

By James Nadal
Contemporary jazz vocalists, caught in the current trend to accelerate their careers, are often indistinguishable from the pack, the essence of their music lost in haste. With her release of Changes , veteran singer Carmen Lundy proves that this premise does not apply to her, rising to that proverbial summit to enjoy the rarefied air of the chosen few.
Graced and gifted with a smooth, effortless voice, Lundy has been highly heralded since her landmark 2005 record, Live at the Madrid (Afrasia). Though she has done other records since, she is back with a supple encore of original compositions and novel directions. She states that she approached these songs with the guitar in mind and, accordingly, brought in premier guitarist Oscar Castro-Neves for his expertise in dealing with subtle, nuanced rhythms. Though he lays back on much of the recording, on "Sleeping Alone" he begins with his soft guitar sketching a distant samba. Lundy delivers the swaying tempo as only she can. They combine for another guitar/vocal duet on "Where Love Surrounds Us," where the acoustic arrangement is sublime.
There is a definite retro feel to this production, which hails back to a period of authentic recording methods when musicians took their time in composing, arranging and rehearsing. Pianist Anthony Wonsey plays a vintage Fender Rhodes on "So Beautiful" and "Too Late For Love," which features trumpet man Nolan Shaheed playing off of the vocals. The band is fully in tune under Lundy's spell and the result is stupendous.
Lundy attests that she is taking chances and making changes in her approach to songwriting and performing, and there is an underlying percussive element drifting throughout the selections. With a caressing style that blends intention with improvisation, Changes is that personal record she had within her. She has let it out for the world to hear.
Track Listing: 

The Night Is Young; So Beautiful; Love Thy Neighbor; A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square; Sleeping Alone; Too Late For Love; Dance The Dance; To Be Loved By You; Where Love Surrounds Us.
Personnel:

Carmen Lundy: vocals, harp, string and horn arrangements; Anthony Wonsey: piano, Fender Rhodes; Kenny Davis: bass, electric bass; Jamison Ross: drums, percussion; Oscar Castro-Neves: guitar; Nolan Shaheed: trumpet, flugelhorn; George Bohannon: trombone.

The Ups and Downs Of Life

By Claudio Botelho
“Every jazz musician will say to any interviewer that you’ve got to tell your own story. I love when this story is full of things. Our lives are full of nice moments – there’s a funny situation, then one of us is dying on the floor so it’s suddenly tragic, you call the police but they aren’t coming, so that’s funny again. Life is changing all the time. Some jazz music today is like the Sea of Tranquility, trying to develop the same feeling for 60 minutes. My life is not like that; I cannot tell this kind of story.”
This was stated by Stefano Bollani – a great jazz piano player from Italy – in the May 2.012 issue of Downbeat, as reported by Ted Panken.
Why did I decide to reproduce his saying? The reason is simple: I heartily agree with him, although my perspective is another; I see this fact through the eye (or ears) of a music consumer which, in front of a never-changing mood, feels bored to the point of interrupting the listening.
If Mr. Bollani feels like me and he’s a musician and, as such, always strives to give his works different colors (and that is true, as I think I know most of his commercial recordings), I now have a great assurance this matter is really an important issue.
Now another important issue arises: what if a musician, in doing a single-mood presentation, feels like doing like this? What if all he knows is to express himself in such a way as to render his work one-dimensional; something so similar to itself all along as to lose its breath on the way?
This question have been bothering me for a long time now, so I‘ve decided to share it with you.
Of course if we are talking about jazz, the subject of the conversation is, above all, creativity and if someone can only be inspirational through some kind of mood, should he try to do something about it?
Suppose he’s aware of his predicament which, as it is, will keep him from garnering wider audiences. Should he stay still and let things flow unattended? Or should he try to move over his problem? And, once deciding to change things, wouldn’t he betray himself? By this token, wouldn’t it be more honest to keep his musicality intact and pose with the lack of recognition?
I’m talking about top echelon musicians, many of whom have done extensive agenda of musical studies and practices and, most certainly, know that a symphony, for instance, as along piece of music, must include movements which should encompass different tempi. So, authors like Mozart used slow, medium and fast tempi, usually repeating one of them in the fourth movement. So these are the so called allegro, andante or adagio and scherzo intertwining the presentations, exactly to avoid that sameness more prone to those needing a good night sleep.
This has become the practice since long, long ago and it bothers me a lot to listen to so many otherwise very good jazz albums filled with just one-tempo songs. Things get even worse if one considers there are so many almost-seventy-minute albums, today. I can’t stand more than three or four songs in a row if there’s no mood switch and I’ve come across so many all slow-pace CD’s, especially from certain frozen areas of Europe, many of which by some of the most respected musicians around! It’s a pity having such a bunch of unknown (for me) music as I do!
Conversely, as alluring as some up-tempo music may seem to be, the excess of it also turns the attention down in the long run. Those all conga-punctuated Caribbean sounds, to name one example, especially of the kind of repetitive beats (unfortunately, the great majority of the presentations I’ve listened to) tires one even more, as the songs, in general, are not that polished and, thus, the dominant force is the unchanging rhythm...
I have come to think these trends have something to do with the sun: the more sunlight, the more kinetic energy, the faster the beats. Conversely, less sunlight means less kinetic energy and its consequent slow-beat songs. I don’t know if this is the right connection to be made, but, in some way, one fact is the resultant of the other…
But a second question arises: should a musician just let his inner inspiration rule with iron fists his production, irrespective of its repercussion among his fans? If it’s the case, should he let loose his musical outing in respect, for instance, to himself as an artist, instead of “blemishing his musicality”?
Another question: he may be, as well, unaware of this issue, never even considering it exists. In this case, there’s nothing to do. Of course I know this is also a reality, but how often it happens? Also, it does, here and there, with many musicians and, sometimes, even on purpose. I’m not talking here about these occasional instances, however.
About this last hypothesis, to illustrate, I can remember a CD of an artist which I praise very much and who, in any conceivable way, does one-beat albums, but, once and to the best of my knowledge, did it: I’m talking about Ahmad Jamal and his “I Remember Duke, Hoagy & Strayhorn” (Telarc, 1995). Although filled with his ever fabulous pianism, that CD was sort of boring to listen: out of the great respect Jamal certainly devotes to these great composers, he forgot himself and did a one-note-samba rendering of their songs. I’ve never forgotten the experience of listening to a Jamal so UnJamal…
On the other side of things, listen to João Bosco’s “Senhoras do Amazonas”; a release of this extraordinary artist who, along with the NDR Big Band and musical arrangements of the great Steve Gray, did an exceptional balanced album. I very heartedly recommend this presentation of some of the best Brazilian music!
Of course no one can’t deny the right of anybody to do whatever he wants with his artistic career, but, if the latter wants his art to get wider attention, maybe he’d better consider what Blasé Pascal, by the way, stated, in his “Pensées”, about the subject here discussed:
"We seek rest in a struggle against some obstacles. And when we have overcome these, rest proves unbearable because of the boredom it produces."
That’s all.