Sunday, November 12, 2017

2 Sem 2017 - Part Ten

Antonio Adolfo
Tema



By Raul da Gama
A marvelous disc this is. Absolutely marvelous. Antonio Adolfo and his music have been congenial bedfellows and the Brazilian’s pianism and his music are compelling on many different levels. There is a sense of sharing the sheer sensuous thrill of Mr. Adolfo’s keyboard writing. This is particularly evident in the more virile movements such as the fierce and brilliant “SamboJazz” that nestles in the centre of this disc. But that is not to say that brilliance does not exemplify the other material on Tema, an enigmatic name for this disc. Common to all is a sense of being fleet, but never breathless, with time enough for textures to tell.
At every turn you get a sense of Antonio Adolfo flexing his compositional muscles in this music that goes back almost fifty-five years. There is a sense of Mr. Adolfo demonstrating just how much variety could be built around a tema of melodies. In Antonio Adolfo’s hands the music occupies its own world of mood and rhythmic delight. This music is also fashioned in Mr. Adolfo’s unique way with counterpoint that is at once strong-jawed and supple. We are always aware of the music’s subject , for instance, as it peeks through the texture in different registers or reappears stood on its head, yet is never exaggerated as is sometimes the tendency with less imaginative musicians.
And how Mr. Adolfo can dance at least at his keyboard – in “SamboJazz”, as it is urged into life through subtle dynamics, voicings, articulation and judicious ornamentation. A very different kind of dance reveals itself in “Sao Paulo Express” a Paulista musical vignette in which he takes a more impish view than many, the sonorous drone effect contrasting delightfully with the tripping upper lines. The way he (and his guitarists Leo Amuedo and Claudio Spiewak) has considered the touch and dynamic of every phrase means that these readings constantly impress with fresh details each time you hear them. This is a classic illustration of the exceptional genius of Antonio Adolfo, as a pianist, composer, arranger and guide of the musicians who have given everything of themselves to follow him.
Even the most unassuming numbers such as “Todo Dia” gain a sense of intrigue as he invites the musicians of the ensemble to re-examine this from every angle, again bringing multifarious shadings to the music. And it all flows effortlessly though a journey might have been anything but that. Highlights abound: in the murmuring “Trem da Serra” the pianist’s reactivity leaves other Brasilians – including some guitarists – sounding a touch unsubtle, which is really saying something. This is followed by one of the most extraordinary of pieces on the disc, “Melos”. While many musicians would revel in echoing harmonies expressed in a piece such as this, Mr. Adolfo draws you daringly into his own world. This whispered intimacy extends into his insertion of an ornamented version of “Variations on a Tema Triste” which proves to be a masterclass in ornamentation, yet never overburdening the melodic lines. Fittingly there are long meditative silences as the piece fades.
You can be in no doubt of the thought that has gone into this enterprise from Mr. Adolfo’s ordering of tema which he explains in his brief liner notes to their devolution into the songs themselves. At every turn he harnesses the possibilities of the piano in the service of his music. The result is a clear labour of love , and one in which he shines new light on older music to mesmerising effect, all of which is captured by a warmly sympathetic recording.
Track List: 
Alegria For All; Natureza; Phrygia Brasileira; SamboJazz; Alem Mares; Sao Paulo Express; Todo Dia; Trem da Serra; Melos; Variations on a Tema Triste.
Personnel:
Antonio Adolfo: piano and electric piano (4); Marcelo Martins: flute, alto flute (2) and soprano saxophone; Leo Amuedo: electric guitar; Claudio Spiewak: acoustic guitar and electric bass; Jorge Helder: double bass; Rafael Barata: drums and percussion; Armando Marçal: percussion; Hugo Sandim: additional Samba percussion.


Laszlo Gardony
Serious Play



By Dan Bilawsky
The beauty of personal expression may be the greatest and most effective balm to soothe our hearts in troubled times. That's the message that pianist Laszlo Gardony gifts us with Serious Play.
Following the approach used on Clarity (Sunnyside, 2013), Gardony delves deep into his own subconscious in real time to create a statement that's both comforting and weighty in tone. The bulk of the material presented herein was spontaneously composed, giving Gardony a chance to allow the moment to guide him, and it all resonates with a deep and profound sense of understanding.
Rather than simply come in with a set of tunes, Gardony sat at the piano, asked renowned recording engineer Paul Wickliffe to keep the tape rolling, and let his perceptive mind and hands do the rest. The album starts and ends on familiar notes, with a soulful and hopeful "Georgia On My Mind" ushering us in and an incredibly moving "Over The Rainbow seeing us out. In between, save for a lengthy excursion through John Coltrane's "Naima" that takes flight off of a "Giant Steps" runway, Gardony offers us his own expository creations. There's the title track, merging his harmonic language with the posture and energy of McCoy Tyner; a starry-eyed glance in miniature, taking its post as "Watchful Through The Night"; a gathering call dubbed "Folk At Heart," speaking to resilience and strength in community; and a dynamic dance in the form of "Truth To Power," simultaneously speaking to salvation and doomsday.
In less than forty minutes, Gardony manages to cycle through a series of thoughts and emotional truths that catalog what we're all experiencing in different ways. It's a statement that's both sobering and heartening in its unfolding.
Track Listing: 
Georgie On My Mind; Naima; Serious Play; Night Light; Forward Motion; Watchful Through The Night; Folk At Heart; Truth To Power; Reverberations; Over The Rainbow.
Personnel: Laszlo Gardony: piano.


Christian McBride Big Band
Bringin' It 



By Matt Collar
Christian McBride's second big-band album, 2017's Bringin' It, is a robust, swaggeringly performed set of originals and standards showcasing his deft arranging skills and his ensemble's exuberant virtuosity. The album comes six years after his previous big-band outing, The Good Feeling, and once again finds the bassist conscripting a slew of his talented cohorts (some new, others returning), including saxophonists Steve Wilson and Ron Blake, trumpeters Freddie Hendrix and Brandon Lee, trombonist Steve Davis, pianist Xavier Davis, drummer Quincy Phillips, and others. Together, they make a swinging, dynamic sound that brings to mind the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Orchestra of the 1960s and bassist Charles Mingus' various big-band recordings. It should be noted that both of those ensembles continue to live on as the Vanguard Jazz Orchestra and Mingus Big Band, and McBride's group matches their high artistic legacies. This is partly due to his own virtuosic skill and anchoring presence throughout all of Bringin' It, and is true whether he is laying down a thick, groove-based funk pattern, as on the opening "Gettin' to It," or providing the steady footing for saxophonist Wilson's guttural, bluesy introduction on "Used 'Ta Could." That said, while he certainly takes his share of solos on Bringin' It, McBride's focus as an arranger is clearly trained on providing his bandmates with a solid framework for their own improvisational talents. Fat-toned trumpeter Freddie Hendrix is particularly showcased, launching skyward out of blast of brassy fire on "Gettin' to It" and skillfully surfing the band's angular harmonic waves on Freddie Hubbard's "Thermo." Similarly, pianist Davis emerges from the band's theatrical skronks and ersatz animal noises on McCoy Tyner's "Sahara" with a titanic roil of thickly chorded notes like a ship on a boiling sea. Elsewhere, McBride reveals his more urbane inclinations, showcasing vocalist Melissa Walker on the sparkling bossa nova number "Upside Down" and his sprightly take on Jerry Jeff Walker's "Mr. Bojangles," while "I Thought About You" and "In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning" are both sweeping, gorgeously arranged ballads. With Bringin' It, McBride has ultimately crafted a big-band album that retains all of his own formidable, exuberant characteristics.
Track Listing: 
Getin' To It; Thermo; Youthful Bliss; I Thought About You; Sahara; Upside Down; Full House; Mr. Bojangles; Used ' Ta; Could; In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning.
Personnel: 
Christian McBride: bass; Steve Wilson: alto saxophone, soprano saxophone, flute; Todd Bashore: alto saxophone, flute, piccolo; Ron Blake: tenor saxophone, flute; Dan Pratt: tenor saxophone, flute; Carl Maraghi: baritone saxophone, bass clarinet; Frank Greene: trumpet; Freddie Hendrix: trumpet; Brandon Lee: trumpet; Nabate Isles: trumpet; Steve Davis: trombone (11); Michael Dease: trombone; Joe McDonough: trombone (1-10); James Burton: trombone; Douglas Purviance: bass trombone; Xavier Davis: piano; Quincy Phillips: drums; Rodney Jones: guitar; Melissa Walker: vocals (6, 8); Brandee Younger: harp (10).


John Beasley
Monk'estra Vol.2




By MackAvenue
The Grammy nominated volume one won plaudits for its inventive and successful attempt to redefine Monk’s compositions for the twenty-first century in a big band setting, and incorporating a variety of styles not normally associated with Monk. Volume two carries on the pioneering work and does a fine job of re-reading the Monkbook so to speak. Thelonius Monk recorded sparingly in a larger ensemble format and his best known album in this milieu is the 1959 Town Hall album, while a live performance from 1963 was captured at a New York Philharmonic Hall concert.
What impressed this writer was how well researched Beasley has been in listening to previous attempts to interpret Monk and taking from these disparate sources. There is for example a nod to a late 1950’s Steve Lacy tribute to Monk on ‘Played Twice’, with soprano saxophone soloing from Bob Sheppard.
Contemporary funk and rap feature on the opener, ‘Brake’s Sake’, with trumpeter Dontae Winslow then reverting to a rap commentary on Monk, and this clearly indicates that Monk is relevant to a younger audience. An Ellington-inspired big band reading of Monk is illustrated on various pieces, but no better than on ‘Light Blue’, which has a strong 1950’s feel with Beasley this time operating on organ and a fine tenor saxophone solo that is not indicated on the otherwise fine discographical notes.
Guest musicians contribute to the bigger picture with violinist Regina Carter excellent on ‘Crepuscule with Nellie’, which is a a gentle mid-tempo take on the original with contemporary flavours. For some welcome vocal input, singer Dianne Reeves contributes, ‘Dear Ruby’, with a lengthy intro that includes leader Beasley on piano. This writer would like to hear more of John Beasley the soloist on a separate project, but on other pieces he does stretch out on occasion.
One minor disappointment is the muted contribution of Kamasi Washington whose fast-paced soloing on ‘Evidence’ backed by unison reeds, has precious little to distinguish itself and sounds muffled. In contrast, percussionist and bata soloist drummer Pedrito Martinez graces a Latin jazz take on ‘Criss Cross’, and this is, perhaps, a nod on Beasley’s part to the wonderful Jerry Gonzalez and the Fort Apaché Band album ‘Rumba Para Monk’, that is richly deserving of a second follow up album project. Inner sleeve notes by jazz journalist Neil Tesser place the project in a wider context.

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