"There's something different about the way the music revealed itself to the band in this recording. We didn't have a lot of preconceptions and that allowed a certain freedom to open up and move the music in unexpected ways. All we had to do was to let it happen." –Jane Ira Bloom

Jane Ira Bloom’s career spans some 30 years, during which time she has built a reputation for her prowess on the soprano saxophone and use of live electronics and movement;  her collaborations with the likes of Kenny Wheeler, Bob Brookmeyer, and Fred Hersch;  her explorations of world music; and her associations with classical composers, choreographers and visual artists. The first musician commissioned by the NASA Arts Program, Bloom received a Guggenheim to help support 14th album, Wingwalker. 

With long-time cohorts, pianist Dawn Clement, bassist Mark Helias, and drummer Bobby Previte, Bloom fills Wingwalker with 11 new compositions and one (solo) cover of Lerner and Lowe’s “I Could Have Danced All Night.” Simply, this is one of the most beautiful collections of modern music I’ve heard. Bloom’s soprano comes as close to flute as one can imagine, sometimes only that slight bite of brass giving the essential discriminating clue. Wingwalker showcases the elegance of her compositions and effective merging of electronic and acoustic elements; often her sax plays in tandem with pianist Clement to create the appeal of two-horn harmony. 

Clement’s majestic chorded intro of the opening “Her Exacting Light” leads into Bloom’s melodic incantation, recalling Charles Lloyd. Helias serves as a steady compatriot while Previte’s cymbals wash over the music like a gentle caress. “Life on Cloud” is filled with folk themes, the marvelous hollow sounds of Previte and Helias, and a prayerful combination of soprano sax and electronic effects. A mournful sax/piano duet marks “Ending Red Songs,” while the playful “Freud’s Convertible” is a jagged hopscotch of melodic as well as rhythmic surprises, shining the spotlight on Helias’s bouncy pulse and Clement’s ability to swing and tap dance at the same time.  

Bloom’s whirling, forward motion and lurching electronics propel “Air Space,” while on “Frontiers in Science,” sax and piano alternate in unison and counterpoint, suggesting two horns on this haunting tone poem. “Rooftops Speak Dreams” is a beautiful meander for Bloom over Helias’s strumming country vamp, while “Adjusting to Midnight” is a gorgeous ballad of clean and simple lines. “Rookie” evolves as a swinging quartet venture, no “rookie” here as Bloom runs scales interlaced with surging electronics, Clement races through rings of fire and Helias pounces all over his solo space. Spiky piano and swooning sax highlight the ominous “Live Sports,” while the title track finds Bloom weaving lacey fabric with Helias’s deep and graceful tones.  

Taking “I Could Have Danced All Night” alone, Bloom’s bronzed tone is touched with a longing to have, indeed, danced all night. We could have listened all night. 

Jane Ira Bloom performs at the Cornelia Street Cafe in Manhattan on May 22nd, with bassist Dean Johnson and drummer Bobby Previte, playing selections from Wingwalker; www.corneliastreetcafe.com

"Michael has three qualities I find essential in a musician: a beautiful sound, a big heart, and fearlessness. His playing is always interesting, surprising, and challenging." –Jean-Michel Pilch 
 

At 24, bassist Michael Feinberg is the veteran of this young lions’ sextet, heading his second recording of mostly his own compositions. Currently enrolled in graduate studies at NYU, the Atlanta native cites influences as diverse as Jean-Michel Pilc, George Garzone,  John Scofield and Billy Drummond; recent affiliations have included Kenny Werner, Orrin Evans and Ted Nash. For his self-produced With Many Hands, Feinberg has gathered a crew of soon-to-be stars – tenor saxophonist Noah Preminger, altoist Godwin Louis, pianist Julian Shore, drummer Daniel Platzman, and guitarist Alex Wintz. Of the seven, wide-ranging tracks, Feinberg penned five himself and another with New York guitarist Deen Anbar; drummer Platzman contributes another. 

The two saxophones introduce the opening title track, drifting in unison or close harmony. Feinberg soon introduces himself, darkly balladic with elegant fills from Shore, then roles reverse. There’s a rise in temperature particularly among the horns and fueled by Platzman that gives this generally melodic track some bite. Platzman’s “Temple Tales” finds Shore on Fender Rhodes, and again, close harmonies among horns, now above a steady march from Shore and Feinberg. Preminger and Louis spew line after line of twisting logic while Shore’s solo over still-marching Feinberg has a bit of voodoo overdrive, mirrored perfectly by guitarist Wintz. Platzman maintains a continuous splash and crash til it all winds down in a whiney close. “NBD” (Feinberg and Anbar) starts with a triple-beat pulse, Feinberg taking charge early before turning lyrical direction to Shore, then Louis. The track moves like an ocean tide, in and out, alternating soft flow and agitation, closing over the triple-beat vamp. 

“The Hard Stuff” has a freer feel with a haunting, deep groove set by Feinberg and Platzman, Wintz adding some other-worldly effects while the saxes play with a rock-fueled cacophony; Platzman sears the ending with his popping solo. If this was the “hard stuff,” then “August” is the “soft stuff” as  the band switches gears toward a more gentle, fusion-inspired showcase for Wintz. Shore caresses the Rhodes, Feinberg’s deep counterpoint playing luxuriously off the ambient backdrop. The closing tracks (“Fighting Monsters” and “Lost and Found”) seem more bop in form and allocation of energy, as if the blueprint is from the 50s but the execution from the new millennium; Shore sounds distantly related to Bud Powell. “Fighting Monsters” features a hard-swinging undercurrent from bass and drums, and rambunctious horn interplay; “Lost and Found” follows a similar path, Preminger leading the charge, Louis not far behind, quoting “Skylark” as if to acknowledge past influence in the midst of the forward energy. 

With Many Hands, individually and as an ensemble, Michael Feinberg and company put the jazz world on notice: modern jazz is in good hands. 

Saxophonist Doug Webb brings another stellar CD release, Renovations, to his many fans. This one is an excellent follow-up to his previous release, Midnight.  It includes eight great selections, again all very well-known tunes.  His quartet has the same personnel as on Midnight: Joe Bagg, Larry Goldings and Mahesh Balasooriya sharing piano duties, along with Stanley Clarke on bass and Gerry Gibbs on drums.  Every tune here is a work of art that serve as a perfect relaxer for the listener. 

“Satin Doll” starts as a medium up-tempo, with some unorthodox changes and giving Clarke and Gibbs workouts on their respective instruments.  A. Schwartz’s “Then I’ll Be Tired of You” is a pleasant, soft-swing number, followed by Vernon Duke’s gorgeous “I Can’t Get Started,” which also has an unusual set of changes.  Nice interplay between Golding’s piano and Webb’s tenor sax playing mark Frank Loesser’s “I’ve Never Been in Love Before,” the rhythm section showing brilliant textures in shading.   

Clare Fischer’s wonderful “You’ve Changed” includes another superb bass solo from Clarke!  George Gershwin’s “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” gives us Bagg’s fine piano interfacing with Webb’s super sax work.  Toots Thielemans’ fantastic “Bluesette” features Webb’s soprano sax, Balasooriya’s esteemed piano work and Clarke performing another intricate bass solo.  The closing tune, “Slow Hot Wind,” is a great version of Henry Mancini’s splendid composition.  Both Renovations and the earlier Midnight by Doug Webb are productions, in my opinion, that will be enjoyed for many years to come.  See: www.posi-tone.com  
 

Reprinted with permission from L.A. Jazz Scene, May 2011 issue       

One of the most prolific composers and recording artists in modern piano jazz, Kenny Werner has proven over and over again to be a master of many ensemble configurations, from his famed series of trios to his big band escapades, and most recently (via a Guggenheim award) his epic tribute to his late daughter, No Beginning, No End, featuring woodwinds, voices and strings. Working here with a volcanic quintet of Randy Brecker, David Sanchez, John Pattitucci and Antonio Sanchez, Werner has arguably assembled his most versatile ensemble yet, and Balloons surely ranks with the best of his sessions on record. Recorded live at the Blue Note in New York, the CD boasts four expansive, original works, creating a suite filled with beauty and collaborative energy.  

“Sada” opens the set, an offering of exquisite lyricisim and melody, a sweeping composition that could serve as the soundtrack to a romantic film epic. The close harmonies of the horns and the deep thumping of the bass drum set the stage for Werner’s meditative piano soloing above the seemingly bottomless well of Pattitucci’s bass tones. David Sanchez’s tenor solo sails gloriously over the rhythm section, warm and wistful with a slight edge, his phrasing more than tone reminiscent of Charles Lloyd’s incantations. As they work toward the finish, Brecker’s trumpet flows in and out with Sanchez’s sax, ultimately dissolving over Pattitucci’s assertive vamp. 

A more up-tempo piano introduces a lively horn duet on “Siena.” Brecker solos with clarion authority and reverence for Werner’s majestic melody; David Sanchez as well takes care with the melodic elements while spiraling and cartwheeling freely above Antonio’s thundering percussion and Pattitucci’s driving bass. Werner himself refocuses on the primary theme while taking some side journeys into ever-elegant territory before the horns return home. 

The title track begins as a soulful solo piano reverie, darkly introspective in a Brad Mehldau-ish vein with a dirging bassline vamp and crisply delicate tracings in the upper register. Enter Pattitucci, then the rest, the horns calling out a repeating melodic motif. A marvelous bass solo carries into Brecker’s elegant far-flung flight on flugelhorn. Stepping in seamlessly, David Sanchez flutters and scrambles, waxes poetic one moment and whines mournfully the next on an extended journey that sets down softly into Werner’s light interlude; the piano gives way to Pattitucci’s quiet, final affirmation. 

Werner manages bouncy and rambunctious musings on “Class Dismissed” without spinning out of control, Pattituci and Antonio Sanchez keeping him tethered. Drummer Sanchez gets his own flight of fancy midway through, deftly using space as much as propulsive energy, his rhythmic improvisations providing a master class for any aspiring drummer and a delight for any listener. Simply put—class dismissed! 

Balloons seems to be a summation of all that we have come to love in Kenny Werner’s music—the soft and lyrical, the exciting and assertive, always an effective fusion of inventive mind and searching soul.

“In the entire history of Polish jazz we’ve never had a band like this one. They just keep getting better and better.” –Tomasz Stanko 

It has been about 20 years since Polish pianist Marcin Wasilewski and bassist Slawomir Kurkiewicz first joined forces as teenagers, adding drummer Michal Miskiewicz to form the Simple Acoustic Trio in the early 1990s. After recording five albums for local labels, they signed on to ECM, releasing Trio in 2005. With their acclaimed followup, January (2007), the group renamed itself the Marcin Wasilewski Trio, acknowledging the role of the band’s principal composer. With their third and stunning ECM disk, the trio extends its reach to compositions from Fran Landesmen, Ornette Coleman, Paul Bley, Hanns Eisler and Hermeto Pascoal, as well as five from Wasilewski. And while the musicians still qualify as “youthful” (all still in their 30s), the longevity of their collaboration and consequential empathy suggests the veteran trios of Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett, Brad Mehldau and Lynne Arriale. 

Eisler’s “An Den Kleinen Radioapparat” offers a perfect introduction to the trio, with Miskiewicz’s distant thundering of drums, Wasilewski’s harp-like right-handed figures over dark left-handed basslines in tandem with Kurkiewicz, like a reading of romantic poetry set to a classical etude. Ornette Coleman’s gorgeous title track is given songful, assertive accents from Miskiewciz while bass chords fill wide spaces, Kurkiewicz and Wasilweski moving back and forth over the drummer’s rumbles. “Ballad of the Sad Young Men” has a sweetly elegant simplicity reminiscent of Lynne Arriale, a piano/bass pas de deux with an underlayment of subtle percussion. The trio creates an oddly lovely dissonance to introduce Pascoal’s “Oz Guizos”  (“The Bells”); piano and bass move in dreamy counterpoint while Miskiewicz’s percussion carries on its own dialogue, keeping the listener on guard as he varies the sonic backdrop without intruding. On the final cover, bassist Kurkiewicz leads the trio on a funky ride through Paul Bley’s “Big Foot,” dancing through sharp angles and quick turns; here Wasilkewski suggests Jason Moran with his playful touches of abstract blues. 

But the standouts are Wasilewski’s own works, particularly the two extended (10+ minutes each) reveries. “Night Train to You” has the feel of a sweeping epic, evoking the imagery of an overland journey a la Abdullah Ibrahim or Brad Mehldau. The energy builds like a locomotive gathering steam until it reaches full throttle, traversing ascending and descending terrain. Miskiewicz unloads a series of quick-fire comments and pounding retorts as they approach the final destination, Kurkiewicz’s basslines leading into the somber recession. “Mosaic” is even more suggestive of Mehldau with its repeating phrases, more introspective yet lyrical and engaging. 

“Song for Swirek” is the most ruminative of the set, yet the ongoing assertion of melody and subtle rhythmic twists keep it from falling into a noodling daze, as does the ebb and flow of percussion, the elegant presence of bass, and the slow but sure building to an energetic apex that quickly resolves. “Woke Up in the Desert” highlights bass/piano interplay with a lovely vamp interlaced with a dark melodic meditation; Wasilewski weaves new ideas, then lets them shimmer and fade. “Lugano Lake” brings the set to a seductively melodic conclusion, the trio floating on a nearly still surface, finding peace between each note.