 All Our Reasons: The Billy Hart Quartet Originally cast as the Ethan Iverson/Mark Turner Quartet nearly a decade ago, this ensemble became the Billy Hart Quartet to honor the drummer at a gig in his native Montclair, NJ. The band’s debut recording (Quartet) was released on High Note in 2006, and over time (and on the bandstand at the Village Vanguard), Hart, Iverson, Turner, and Ben Street have developed a free-wheeling collaboration marked by joyful and adventurous explorations as well as a growing book of compositions, filled with the energy that often erupts when a veteran of Hart’s caliber meshes with the relatively “young blood” of such upstarts as Iverson, Turner, and Street. All Our Reasons marks the quartet’s ECM debut, recorded in Avatar Studios under the expert ear of producer Manfred Eicher. All but Street contribute compositions.
 Billy Hart © Andrea Canter The set opens with Hart’s “Song for Balkis,” and the drummer’s solo calls his cohorts to worship as if a tribal ritual. Iverson answers the call first with repeating piano phrases that echo the drum pattern; Street joins in on bass and Turner comes in fluttering an incantation. When the piano drops out, we’re left with Turner’s spare and prayerful horn, making a plea to the Spirits as he builds momentum. The polyrhythms are propulsive, and the swirling speed of sax and deliberate chords of piano define in-the-moment improvisation. “Ohnedaruth” is Iverson’s reimagining of Coltrane’s “Giant Steps,” the solo piano suggesting an obtuse Bach toccata for the first two minutes or so until Turner pushes it into the future with a deep undertow from Street and peppery commentary from Hart. Hart hosts a bluesy cymbal party on his funky “Tolli’s Dance,” Turner soaring through scales until Iverson shifts to a crystalline, tinkling finish. The pianist honors Paul Bley with his “Nostalgia for the Impossible,” Turner recalling Charles Lloyd as he navigates across Iverson’s ever-shifting moods, Hart in a continual state of agitation and Street steering from the bottom up. Hart’s “Duchess” is enlightened by Iverson’s edgy boppish swing and angular phrasing, while the drummer’s insistent cymbal splash and Street’s loping basslines lay a sturdy foundation for Turner’s songful horn. Turner inverted Sonny Rollins’ “Airegin” to come up with “Nigeria,” as Rollins likely inverted “Nigeria” to come up with “Airegin.” Beyond Street’s opening dark pulse, the composition could easily be renamed “Hartbeat” as Billy’s far-ranging solo runs through myriad rhythms and percussive antics; Iverson brings a bit of Cuban rhythm to the finale. On his “Wasteland,” Turner solos with wide intervals while the harmonic interplay of piano and sax creates the sound of an Eastern scale; this piece was through-composed for the recording session; only the sax intro and Hart’s drum interludes are improvised. Solo piano suggest a weird Baroque exercise on Iverson’s very short “Old Wood,” an homage to a favorite Steinway. On the closing “Imke’s March,” Hart adds whistling at the start and finish, strangely suggesting a marching regiment from a World War II movie (although the melody comes from the whistle he uses to call his daughter from the playground), with a more contemporary marching rhythm underlying the track throughout. Hart’s name comes first and no doubt his drumkit provides a vortex for the ensemble’s efforts, but in this band of stars, everyone twinkles, everyone absorbs and reflects back the light of his cohorts. And the result is a super nova. |