Carol Lian, wife of the late pianist Jack Reilly, announces that a memorial observance will be held for her husband on Monday, November 5, in New York City. The service and celebration of his life will be at 7 pm at St. Peter’s Lutheran Church, 619 Lexington Avenue at 54th Street. Mr. Reilly died at 86 on May 19. For a remembrance of this influential pianist and video of his improvising on Chopin, see this Rifftides post.

Every fall season, it’s the same problem; whose version of “Autumn Leaves” to use with this year’s photograph. Perhaps it’s not surprising how often the winner turns out to be Bill Evans with Scott LaFaro, bass, and Paul Motian, drums, in this 1959 recording.

Rudy Royston, Flatbed Buggy (Greenleaf Music)

Blends of accordion, cello, reeds and bowed bass sometimes swell the music of drummer Royston’s album nearly to orchestral proportions. But the collection also has simple qualities akin to cowboy songs and folk music, except when it’s more or less squarely in the bebop tradition, as in “Bobblehead.” John Ellis’s soprano saxophone solo on that track is pure bop except for certain harmonies in the accompaniment that might have raised Bela Bartok’s eyebrows if he had heard it. In other words Flatbed Buggy has wide variety in its approach.

The opening track, “Soul Train,” establishes the life-affirming energy and humor that course through the project. Gary Versace solos on accordion, John Ellis on bass clarinet and Hank Roberts on cello over Royston’s variegated drumming and Joe Martin’s loping bass line. The title tune has Versace in one of several appearances as a full-range accordionist who in other roles is a principal soloist in the Maria Schneider Orchestra and a frequent collaborator with the equally adaptable and adventurous guitarist Bill Frisell.

“Bed Bobbin,’” “Dirty Stetson,” “Hold My Mule,” and “I Guess It’s Time To Go” are short interludes that demonstrate Royston’s drum virtuosity as he works hand in hand with his sidemen. Indeed, the entire album makes clear that not only is he a master of his instrument but it also emphasizes that his complete musicianship allowed authorship of all of the album’s dozen tunes.

Recent Listening In Brief

Annie Chen Octet, Secret Treetop (Shanghai Audio&Video Ltd)

Chen is a singer and composer born in China who lives in New York and has an eclectic musical palette with colors from sources as disparate as Turkey, Taiwan and Mongolia. With a rhythm section augmented by guitar, violin, saxophone and trumpet, she employs her robust voice in nine original compositions. Lyrics are in various languages, most of them having helpful English translations in the accompanying booklet.

With impressive effect, the blends of voice and instruments set distinct moods, notably so on the album’s title tune. Chen’s vocalizing in that piece has elements of bebop-like phrasing over complex backgrounds. It produces a feeling of joyous abandon that contrasts with its disciplined setting. Several solos by violinist Tomoko Omura, alto saxophonist Alex LoRe, trumpeter David Smith, pianist Glenn Zaleski, and guitarist Rafal Sarnecki provide further interest. Chen’s voice, gloriously in tune, is an essential element of the arrangements, not only in her solo performance but also as part of the rich blends achieved in Sarnecki’s arrangements.

More Briefs

Sometimes, important recordings linger too long on the Rifftides recent-arrival shelf. That happened to a couple of CDs in Elemental Music’s invaluable series of albums either rescued from obscurity or never issued in the first place. Here, we’re calling attention to a pair of fresh albums recorded long ago in Japan by modern jazz masters.

Woody Shaw, Tokyo 1981 (Elemental Music)

This catches Shaw as he was further refining his adaptation for trumpet of departures that saxophonist John Coltrane had introduced only a couple of years before in his “Giant Steps” period. Shaw was taking harmonic adventuring a step—several steps, in fact—beyond what Freddie Hubbard had achieved conceptually on the instrument. He had a sympathetic frontline partner in trombonist Steve Turre, slightly younger than Shaw, who heard music in much the same way and had the facility to perform in Shaw’s advanced league. The rhythm section for the Japan trip was top of the line in the advanced coterie of young modernists developing in jazz. Pianist Mulgrew Miller, bassist Stafford James and drummer Tony Reedus supported Shaw with a solid understanding of how the music was developing in the early ‘80s. Shaw’s compositions “Rosewood,” “Song Of Songs” and “From Moment To Moment” remind us that at 37 he had honed his compositional ability in parallel with his achievement on the trumpet. His pieces hold up impressively alongside Thelonious Monk’s familiar “’Round Midnight,” the second track on the album.

Dexter Gordon Quartet, Tokyo 1975 (Elemental Music)

The great tenor saxophonist is featured at Tokyo’s eminent Yubin Chokin Hall with the quartet that appeared so often halfway around the world at Copenhagen’s Montmartre club in the years when Gordon lived in Denmark. Indeed, during that period his quartet could nearly be considered the Montmartre house band, with Kenny Drew, piano; Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen, bass; and Albert “Tootie” Heath, drums. They were on the road with him in Japan. Nor does the repertoire differ much from that in Copenhagen, with Gordon’s “Fried Bananas,” “It Could Happen To You,” “Days Of Wine And Roses,” “Misty” and Billy Eckstine’s blues “Jelly, Jelly,” Gordon indulging himself in a vocal. They played to a Tokyo audience whose enthusiasm was occasionally on the verge of delirium. Elemental has added bonus tracks from concerts in Laren, Switzerland (Monk’s “Rhythm-A-Ning”, 1973) and New Haven Connecticut (“Old Folks,” 1977). Espen Rud is the drummer in Laren. The rhythm secton on the Connecticut track is Ronnie Matthews, piano; Stafford James, bass; and Louis Hayes, drums. The enthusiasm in both places matches that of the listeners in Japan. If anything Gordon sounds even more ebullient.

Elemental Music deserves credit for discovering and releasing these important installments in the careers of two major artists

Jon De Lucia Octet + Ted Brown Live At The Drawing Room (Gut String Records)

Alto saxophonist De Lucia is committed to music that springs from Lennie Tristano. He also draws on the examples of Lee Konitz, Jimmy Giuffre, Gerry Mulligan and other musicians who became important in the late 1940s and early ‘50s. On this album De Lucia’s octet features the venerable tenor saxophonist Ted Brown. Brown spent seven years with Tristano after the pianist, composer, arranger and theorist moved from Chicago to New York and established a modern jazz tributary often referred to as the Tristano school. Tristano influenced a wide range of musicians including Bill Evans, Clare Fischer, and the saxophonists Konitz and Warne Marsh, both early members of his band.

Tristano’s impact is apparent in the harmonic aspects of the De Lucia album’s arrangements of standard songs like “Darn That Dream” and “The Song Is You” and of modern jazz classics including Mulligan’s “Sextet,” his “Venus De Milo” and the Jimmy Giuffre arrangement of Konitz’s “Palo Alto.” In this video made at New York’s Drawing Room, the bearded man near the middle of the screen is De Lucia. To his immediate right is Ted Brown, mostly obscured by the audience but fully audible in his solo. The piece—based on guess what?—is titled “I Resemble You,” not the only track in the album to borrow from the chord structures of well-known compositions.

It’s a bit late in the day, but not too late to say happy birthday to Dizzy Gillespie fans and millions of listeners who may not be aware that much of their favorite music would not exist if John Birks Gillespie hadn’t helped bring it out of the swing era. His spirit and example, and his partnership with Charlie Parker, are still modernizing jazz, as they were in 1946 when Gillespie recorded “Emanon.”

Bruno RÃ¥berg Trio, Tailwind (Red Piano Records)

Råberg’s bass—at once relaxed and penetrating—is at the heart of a collection of his compositions. The sole piece written by someone else is Jimmy Van Heusen’s “Here’s That Rainy Day,” a feature for the leader’s seductive bowing. Råberg follows the Van Heusen with his own “Rainy Day Farewell,” which he may have conceived with Jamaica and Harry Belafonte in mind. Adam Cruz’s drum pattern supports that notion. Throughout, Cruz and pianist Bruce Barth back Råberg with sensitivity and close attention to his harmonic departures. That unity is particularly effective in “Tailwind,” the album’s title tune. Into the structure Råberg builds what we might call rolling interludes that enhance the piece’s forward motion.

The ballad “A Closer Look,” dating back more than three decades, is a piece that Råberg and Barth played together in their early years In Boston, not long after the bassist arrived in the United States from Sweden to attend the New England Conservatory. Rather than a peaceful survey, the energy of “Paris Window” might portray a busy excursion down the Champs Elysées. On the other hand, “Lone Tree Hill” is as peaceful as its title indicates, Barth’s rippling runs and full chords contrasting with Cruz’s chattering drums and cymbals before the track falls slowly away. Each of the two takes of “Le Candide” has its own lively personality, the first driven by the conversational interchanges between Råberg and Cruz, the second dominated by the masterful variety in Barth’s piano choruses. As usual when listening to Barth, one wonders why he isn’t mentioned more often in discussions about major pianists.

Michael Stephans, David Liebman, Marc Copland, Drew Gress: Quartette Oblique (Sunnyside)

Opening the album, Liebman launches the familiar opening phrases of “Nardis” from his tenor saxophone, toying with them, letting each note fall away. The rhythm section soon joins him. Within seconds the toying is over and the album’s muscles are rippling in a show of strength that for more than an hour does not recede, regardless of tempo. The energy is in great part due to Liebman’s intensity on tenor and soprano saxophones, but drummer Stephans, pianist Copland and bassist Gress are in league with him through every track. The quartet’s responses to one another are instantaneous. Their empathy is deep, almost palpable. The audience at the Deer Head Inn in Pennsylvania’s Poconos Mountains is so attentive that the quality of their listening becomes a part of the room’s atmosphere.

The album rewards close listening to its two Miles Davis pieces, “Nardis” and “So What,” but also to the late guitarist John Abercrombie’s “Vertigo,” and Duke Ellington’s “In a Sentimental Mood.” Gress enhances the contemplativeness of his composition “Vesper” with a bass solo that elevates the thoughtful mood. Copland’s shimmering piano on the piece melds into Liebman’s quiet, deep, improvisation on tenor, as opposed to the controlled frenzy that he generates on tenor and soprano sax elsewhere in this rewarding album. Nowhere is he more contained or, by contrast, more expansive, than in Dietz and Schwartz’s imperishable 84-year-old “You And The Night And The Music.” The piece highlights a quartet album that is itself a highlight.

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As always music arrives daily, seemingly by the truckload. It would be impossible to hear it all. Nonetheless, additional reports on selected Recent Listening are soon to come.

The Rifftides computer has escaped days of incarceration by digital gremlins and is back at work. Thanks to the readers who sent expressions of concern.

The latest problem with the Rifftides computer does not involve explosions, but it is serious enough to interfere with posting. The technical staff is working on a solution. Please bear with them. In the meantime, let’s dive into the archive for something to tide us over. This choice seems appropriate because of timing. When the computer virus, flu, cancer, plague—whatever it is—struck, I was listening and taking notes in preparation for a post about Wayne Shorter’s new three-CD release. This piece from five years ago brought to mind one of his quartet’s earlier triumphs.

From Rifftides, August 23, 2013

Wayne Shorter, Without A Net (Blue Note)

About seven minutes into Shorter’s first soprano saxophone solo on the monumental “Pegasus,” someone in the band says, “Oh, my God!” The interjection stands as reaction not only to that track by Shorter’s quartet and a polished chamber group but also to his quartet throughout the album. “Pegasus,” commissioned by the Imani Winds, is the piece de resistance of this collection of performances recorded in concert on a 2011 tour. Weaving together the quartet improvising and the wind ensemble reading his demanding score, Shorter achieves intense energy and a successful synthesis of two genres that is rare enough to be noteworthy. It is the centerpiece of the album, but he and the rhythm section are stunning in the eight tracks without the Imani.

The abiding impression is that the Shorter quartet has found a degree of consistent unity few working bands achieve even occasionally. In their decade or so together, Shorter, pianist Danilo Perez, bassist John Patitucci and drummer Brian Blade have reached the blessed state reflected in the title of one of the CD’s tunes, “S.S. Golden Mean.” However, they depart from the classic description of the golden mean as a happy medium, a state of balance. They allow extremes, surprises, explosions of the unexpected. The four seem wide open to anything, eager to capitalize on the next chance one of them takes. The ability to land on their feet is better insurance than a net. “Zero Gravity to the 10th Power” and “(The Notes) Unidentified Flying Objects” find Shorter on tenor sax reacting to and developing ideas generated by the rhythm section. In “Orbits,” “Plaza Real,” the old movie song “Flying Down to Rio,” indeed throughout, the collective improvisation frequently creates edge-of-the-seat anticipation that Shorter, Perez, Patitucci and Blade satisfy even after repeated hearings.

On the eve of his 80th birthday, August 25, Shorter has made his mark many times over. This album is not about making a new one, except in the sense that it finds him and his remarkable quartet at a level of togetherness verging on ESP.

From even earlier, 2007, here are Shorter, Danilo Perez, piano; John Patitucci, bass; and Brian Blade, drums, in Cologne, Germany.

It is sad to hear of the death of Jerry González, the extraordinary bandleader, trumpeter and Latin percussionist. He died of heart failure at 69 after being overcome by smoke in a fire in his home in Madrid, Spain on Monday. He had lived in Madrid since 2000.

In the late 1970s, González and his bassist brother Andy established The Fort Apache Band, which quickly became one of the leading groups combining jazz and Latin music. Their album Rumba Para Monk melded music by Thelonious Monk with Latin forms and was an influence as musicians worldwide incorporated Puerto Rican and other Caribbean rhythms into their music. González continued the innovation that began when he was a youngster growing up in the Bronx surrounded by Latin music and culture. He learned not only from his bandleader father but also by simply absorbing the music that was in the air during a time when bands like Machito’s, Tito Puente’s and Machito’s were at their creative peaks.

Today’s New York Times obituary of González incorporates a video showing the González brothers with the Fort Apache Band. To read the obit and see the band in action, go here.

Here is part of a 2008 Rifftides review of González and company at The Seasons Jazz Festival in Yakima, Washington, triumphing in spite of pretty much everything.

Friday, October 17, 2008: Jerry Gonzalez and the Fort Apache Band threw the audience into momentary shock with the opening blasts of Thelonious Monk’s “Little Rootie Tootie.” Powered by the overamplified bass of young Luques Curtis and the drumming of Steve Berrios, who had no choice but to compensate, the band was too loud for the hall, by half. The Seasons’ exquisite natural acoustics were rendered meaningless by volume suitable for a stadium. Nonetheless, the music was so captivating that the audience stayed with it, except for a couple of defections, and seemed to adjust to the sound level. Fort Apache followed with a long treatment of Wayne Shorter’s “Footprints,” notable for an alto saxophone solo by Joe Ford that assaulted the aural cavity but penetrated deep into the emotions. Gonzalez shone on congas, trumpet and flugelhorn. His impassioned flugel solo on “In A Sentimental Mood” was a memorable moment of this memorable festival. Curtis soloed with an acute sense of the harmonic possibilities in “Obsesión,” the Puerto Rican classic by Pedro Flores. Pianist Fred Hoadley came next with a solo that was hypnotically, and effectively, repetitive. Hoadley rushed across the mountains from Seattle at the last minute to substitute for Larry Willis, who cancelled following the death of a relative. Gonzalez wrapped up the set with Monk’s “Evidence,” taken at a fast clip and—what else— top volume. The evening ended with ears ringing and faces smiling.

Jerry González, RIP.

Petra van Nuis & Dennis Luxion, Because We’re Night People (Petra Sings)

Singer van Nuis and pianist Luxion may not be household names outside of Chicago, but their taste and wide range of musicianship have them perennially in demand in the Windy City. In thirteen ballads dealing with after-hours life and culture, the pair’s intimate collaboration makes this a highlight among 2018 vocal albums. Luxion’s participation means that it is also an important recording for listeners who cherish fine piano playing. His keyboard touch and inventive harmonic transitions have Ms. van Nuis floating through a program that includes classics like “You And The Night And The Music,” old songs like Ruth Etting’s 1931 hit “Moonlight Saving Time” and newer classics including Henry Mancini’s “Dreamsville” and his lesser known “Shadows Of Paris.”

The two are distinctive in “Black Coffee,” which is delicious for Ms. van Nuis’ bluesy bending of the words “Around” and the song’s ending title phrase. She gives Meredith d’Ambrosio’s “The Piano Player (A Thousand And One Saloons)” just the right blend of sadness and wit. Throughout, she sustains long notes perfectly in tune, supported by Luxion’s flawless accompaniment. The audience at Chicago’s PianoForte piano store applauds with not so much as one whoop, holler or look-at-me histrionics of the kind that spoils so many live recordings. This will have a long stay on most listeners’ shelves.

Why? Because he was Ray Bryant (1931-2011), and a short piece from his 1956 album Ray Bryant Trio, (now retitled Cry Me A River) has been rising out of the past and repeating in my head for days. Fair warning: It may repeat in your head, too.

Ray Bryant, piano; Wyatt Reuther, bass; Osie Johnson, drums, May 11, 1956. Here’s Bryant’s irresistible “Pawn Ticket.”

Our blogging pace will abate for a while. I am researching and writing liner notes for Scott Robinson’s next album. In it, he returns to his first love, the tenor saxophone, leaving behind the approximately 327 other instruments that he houses on his farm. Robinson tells me that he sometimes meets people who tell him they didn’t know that he plays tenor sax. I tell you emphatically that he does, as the video in a 2013 Rifftides post makes gloriously apparent. It highlights not only Robinson’s tenor sax power but also the synergy between him and Emil Viklický, the pianist who is one of his favorite sparring partners. To see and hear them, go here.

In the album to be released later this year by Arbors Records, Robinson’s remarkable rhythm section is Helen Sung, piano; Martin Wind, bass; and Dennis Mackrel, drums. I’ll let you know when it’s released.

Mr. P.C., the musical and digital counterpart of the print world’s Dear Abby, continues to dispense wisdom on the web by way of Facebook. On occasion, we steal from him. So far, Mr. P.C.’s legal watchdogs have not taken us to court. Here is a bit of knowledge he shared today with an inquiring musician.

Dear Mr. P.C.:

When people in the audience are talking, it goes without saying that they’re not listening to the band. But for the rest of the audience, how do you know when they’re actually listening as opposed to just thinking about something else altogether? —Unheard in Utah

Dear Unheard:

Any jazz musician used to scanning the audience will tell you that there’s an identifiable “active listening” posture: Eyes closed, face gently smiling, head bent down and nodding slightly, as if in agreement with the music.

The ability to listen this way grows with maturity—just look at retirement home audiences. Not only do they assume the posture throughout the concert; often they’re so deeply moved that they maintain it long after the band has headed home.

Mr. P.C. has been known to shed his counselor guise and appear in public as the Seattle pianist Bill Anschell. He did that here with Idaho saxophonist and frequent Mr. P.C. collaborator Brent Jensen.

This is the birthday of Monica Zetterlund (1937-2005). It may have been too long since you have seen the Swedish singer performing one of Bill Evans’ most beloved songs. We can help. She was taped in Copenhagen almost exactly 52 years ago when the Bill Evans Trio included bassist Eddie Gomez and the Danish drummer Alex Riel.

Ira Sabin has died at the age of 90. In 1970 he was a Washington, D.C. record store owner and former drummer who started a tabloid-sized publication called Radio Free Jazz. The tabloid grew, ten years later evolved into the magazine Jazz Times and became a major publication covering jazz events, reviewing records and publishing feature articles about musicians. I began writing reviews for Ira when the publication was still Radio Free Jazz, as did Dan Morgenstern, Ira Gitler, Martin Williams and other critics. Speaking with him, as I did frequently, was always stimulating, not least because he was a master of the terminology that survived the swing and bebop eras in which people he addressed, regardless of gender, were “man” and “baby.” Women were “chicks.” Men were “cats.” Ira was full of knowledge, fun and enthusiasm. I will miss him.

Matt Schudel has a comprehensive Sabin obituary in The Washington Post..

RIP Ira.