November 2001

Open Ears
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By Laurence Donohue-Greene

A month and a day after terrorism struck America in a big way, alto saxophonist Lee Konitz hesitantly decided to stay true to his long awaited “Duets on the Hudson” date with percussionist Paul Motian presented by Lincoln Center at the Stanley H. Kaplan Penthouse. “I almost decided not to come”, Konitz openly admitted while tightening his neck-strap in his black priest-like outfit before continuing that, “(Coming to perform, indeed) does mean something. For a few, we can get our minds off that (World Trade Center and terrorist) shit!”

Konitz, hailing from Chicago, and Motian, born in Philadelphia (though brought up in Providence, RI), were each students of and collaborators with the unheralded pianist, composer, and teacher Lennie Tristano. It was actually on a live session from 1959, issued belatedly as Live at the Halfnote (Verve) that featured Tristano’s piano substitute, Bill Evans, thus previewing the wonderful and historic associations Konitz and especially Motian would soon thereafter develop with the piano master, Evans. Motian shall forever be known at least as one-third of Evans’ classic trio (along with bassist Scott LaFaro), which released nearly two dozen titles together. Many of these recorded works have become timeless chestnuts, such as Portrait in Jazz, Waltz For Debby, Explorations, and absolutely anything they recorded live at the Village Vanguard (helping, consequently, to put the New York club permanently on the map of the jazz world and live recorded jazz, in particular).

Musical comrades for over the last five decades, each coincidentally were also performing on the heels of brand new recordings. Konitz’s latest studio effort is entitled Parallels (Chesky), which harks back to some of the standard material Konitz has become one of the most memorable interpreters of, from Irving Berlin’s “How Deep Is The Ocean” to Hoagy Carmichael’s “Skylark”. His days of Tristano are more than adequately paid homage to with the Tristano tune, “317 E.32nd ”, and the Tristano-tribute Konitz-composed piece, “LT”. Having recorded his own composition “Palo Alto” over half a dozen times now, Konitz has once again brought a new refreshing interpretation of this piece, as well. And from the same time period of the late-‘40s/circa 1950, Konitz has re-recorded his “Subconscious Lee”, on which his opening unaccompanied cadenza is absolutely phenomenal. The recording features his group of modern-day music companions and Tristano-esque material, with Mark Turner (tenor sax) and Peter Bernstein (guitar), respectively filling the big shoes of Warne Marsh and Billy Bauer. Augmented by Steve Gilmore (bass) and Bill Goodwin (drums), the sturdy jazz rhythm section tandem which has been associated with one another since the early-‘70s serving as the foundation to Phil Woods’ quintet, this recording is as strong an outing as Konitz has had in the last 25 years.

As far as Motian’s latest, Europe (Winter & Winter), you can hear his latest edition of the Electric Bebop Band, an on-going group concept of Motian’s which has become well documented over the course of the last decade. Guitarists Ben Monder and Steve Cardenas carry on the tradition that Kurt Rosenwinkle, Brad Shepik (then Schoeppach), and Wolfgang Muthspiel have contributed to Motian’s various E.B.B recordings with their complimentary tapestries of sound. And though Motian continues to perform works by well known jazz composers such as Monk and Bird, he always seems to select choice material that hasn’t been overplayed (for instance Monk’s “Oska T”, “Gallops Gallop”, and Charlie Parker’s “Birdfeathers”). The recording provides another volume in the ever growing Motian catalogue of beautifully packaged and recorded CDs for the Winter & Winter label, his sixth for the label and eighth with his E.B.B.

For this cool October evening, the quaint and stripped down duet of alto sax and drums, without the support or interference of piano and bass, provided a challenge for listeners and musicians alike. The interaction between two musicians plays a critical element that surpasses the most original of solo performances, and with these two veterans it was like getting the best of both worlds, whether they were playing unaccompanied or together. Though not as lengthy a resume of solo works as Konitz, you can find Motian playing unaccompanied (one track as it may be) on his debut recording as a leader, Conception Vessel (ECM). In regards to Konitz, you need to look no further than his ‘74 solo session, Lone-Lee (Steeplechase), on which he plays nearly 40 minutes of improvisation based upon Jerome Kern’s “The Song Is You” and 18 minutes of “Cherokee”.

Obviously, both of course also utilized their experiences in the realm of the duet art form. With no rhythm section to fall back on, the spontaneous music created from one moment to the next revealed what Konitz and Motian, not to mention the ears of that evening’s audience, were dealing with--improvisation in its most stripped down form and its barest of bones. It goes without saying, or does it, that one of Konitz’s all-time classic recordings is the appropriately entitled, Duets (Milestone, 1967) on which he is paired off with such distinct individuals as the late Joe Henderson, Karl Berger, Jim Hall, Ray Nance, Eddie Gomez, Elvin Jones, and amongst others, pianist Dick Katz (who was, as a matter of fact, in the audience that very Friday night.) Motian has also recorded some timeless duets, such as those with Charlie Haden (Closeness: Duets, 1976), not to mention with his old band-mate and boss, Keith Jarrett. So, needless to say, the stage was certainly set for a memorable evening of music conversation between these two Redwoods.

The 35-40 minute opening stream-of-consciousness tune was filled with peaks and valleys, in only the most complementary of topographic music parallels. Motian transitioned from sticks to metal brushes, back to sticks, then to nylon string brushes, before coming full circle returning to sticks to conclude the landscape-filled medley of sound ideas. His unique unconventional percussive nature produced a three dimensional sound quality on cymbals while interspersing snare rolls. A master of understatement and rhythmic insinuation, Motian is one of the few drummers you need never worry about risking your hearing while sitting and listening in as close proximity to his set up as possible. Unlike most drummers, whose limbs are flying in every other direction without any fluctuation of actual touch or depth in their playing, Motian does not waste a single twitch. There’s not an extraneous body, limb, or wrist movement to be found in his array of created sounds.

With sheet music unnecessary, the two played as one, music of the moment being their sole guide. Konitz, as always through his playing, continued to prove that he is one of the few non-conforming altoists unaffected by Bird’s overwhelming influence not only after his death but even during his lifetime. Konitz has always been at the forefront of what later became known as “free jazz” from his late ‘40s collaborations with Tristano, and his experimental tendencies of abstract yet thoughtful free improvisations have since put him at the forefront of a long shopping list of followers and alto saxophonists he has had a significant influence upon, ranging from Anthony Braxton and Julius Hemphill to modern day German saxophonist, Frank Gratkowski.

The two continuously exchanged idea after idea without cliché or regurgitation of phrases or runs. Usually in the case of a duo context, endings of tunes present themselves in an unrelenting fashion—-it’s just a matter of the two musicians agreeing on one of them. Ironically, though, Konitz and Motian played non-stop, allowing not a single potential point of conclusion to even enter their mix until literally the first and only one sprouted. Smoothly and simultaneously they came in collectively for their joint landing, bringing to a close a very musically satisfying set. Or so they and the audience thought! Konitz placed the cap on his mouthpiece and, together with Motian, left the stage to appreciative applause. They were met halfway from the stage to the lobby area by a concert organizer representative, pointing to his watch and obviously explaining that there was still quite a bit of time left in the set, or at least enough for another piece.

Accepting the invitation or demand as it may have been, the two legends ambled their way back to the stage. There was probably a fear, for both the musicians and perhaps some audience members as well, that this second and more than likely shorter piece would literally be forced, consequently taking away from the atmosphere created by the lengthy and magical first piece. Konitz stuffed his horn with a sock substitute plunger-like mute. Subduing the brightness so closely associated with the instrument itself, the mute gave his horn a tenor-like quality, as he stressed his breaths more than the notes which came through the horn’s bell. Matching Konitz’s decision of subtlety, Motian focused primarily on utilizing brushes, flitting them exclusively on cymbals then drum heads like the wings of a butterfly or hummingbird.

It was indeed a shorter improvisation, and lightly placed the cherry on top of the cake, like a light dessert following a massive main course. Lee Konitz’s combined lyricism on alto along with his consistent chance taking tendencies left all ears in awe. Paul Motian’s genuine feeling for his kit and its arsenal has morphed into a very personal technique, style, and even calling card over the decades since the mid-‘50s when he first became a professional musician. Their set was nothing short of magic and left expectations high for pianist Paul Bley and violinist Mark Feldman, reserves by no means, who played a very different set of music in various aspects during the following portion of the duets concert after the intermission.

Bley, actually filling in for the ailing French accordionist Richard Galliano, turned out to be a more appropriate pairing as far as the music elements, parallels, and collaborations of the evening. Many were looking forward to Galliano, and several even asked for refunds before the concert started when they found out he was actually a last minute cancellation. Surely, Feldman and Galliano would have provided a memorable set, but those folks who sacrificed the music for their money back paid dearly in other ways for what they missed. The folks at Lincoln Center behind the organizing of the event couldn’t have planned it better with Bley, a more than adequate if not perfect substitute, let alone first choice duet partner for Feldman to follow the Konitz/Motian tandem.

The connections between the four musicians is like playing an endless game of connect the dots, or at least six degrees of separation. For starters, Motian was of course a member of Bley’s trio for several years in the early-‘60s and has since been associated with him. Bley himself recorded with Konitz in the mid-‘70s (Pyramid, IAI), as well as their more recent co-led quartet session for Steeplechase (Out Of Nowhere, 1997). Feldman was featured on Konitz’s Strings For Holiday (Enja, 1997), and Rhapsody II (Evidence, 1993) which primarily places Konitz in a series of duets and trios; he has also worked with guitarist Bill Frisell, who of course is one third of Motian’s 20-year old trio with Joe Lovano. Strangely enough, though, it had been eleven years since Feldman last played with his partner that evening, Paul Bley.

The two major differences between the set of Bley and Feldman in comparison to Konitz and Motian were the number of compositions they played and improvised, as well as the fact that both the pianist and violinist gave one another ample room for outright unaccompanied solo works. Mark Feldman’s original, “Calista” was an almost 10-minute solo violin excursion, opening with a breathy bamboo flute-like theme that recurred throughout the composition. Utilizing the melody for a mesmerizing coda, Feldman faintly suggested it through the equivalent of a saxophonist’s circular breathing technique though through his bow of course, before gently fading the piece altogether into silence. The other piece for solo violin was another original of Feldman's entitled, “4 Spiker”, which also can be found on his 1998 Music for Violin Alone (Tzadik) recording.

Paul Bley was also allowed sufficient room to run by himself, showcasing his gamut of piano stylings. Hints of what has made such pianists as Jaki Byard, Roland Hanna, Dave Brubeck, and Marian McPartland so diversely original and eccentric could also uniquely be associated with Bley’s style of playing. At times, it even seemed that four hands were involved. In an interesting choice of Sonny Bono’s “The Beat Goes On”, Bley utilized an underlying left hand expressing the theme while his right explored previously unexplored territory, in where Les McCann may have met Muhal Richard Abrams. He subtly would reintroduce the theme more of as a reminder than crutch, revealing how far he had traveled since the familiar melody was last interspersed into his improvisation. Bley’s two-handed approach was also in peak soulful form for his solo rendition of “Makin’ Whoopee”, another curious choice of material considering Bley’s arsenal of original compositions and pieces he is normally associated with performing, such as those by Ornette Coleman, as well as Jimmy Giuffre and Annette Peacock.

Carla Bley’s catchy “Ida Lupino” served as a springboard for one of the three duet pieces performed by Paul Bley and Mark Feldman. The classical flair that was given to the piece through the original playing revealed that both players were certainly far beyond any musical category per se. Feldman’s case-and-point resume includes performances and work with such diverse artists as Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Alabama, and evangelist Jimmy Swaggert, as well as Japanese pianist Satoko Fujii (actually a previous student of Paul Bley’s), Don Byron, Uri Caine, and Dave Douglas’ various ensembles. His sense of tradition on violin is unparalleled, from Grappelli and Venuti, to Leroy Jenkins and Billy Bang, Feldman certainly has a firm grasp on technique and improvisation, two elements which he has fused into his own very personal style.

The final piece of the evening, another duet, gave the audience a taste of long awaited atonality. Bley frolicked out a rolling disjoint solo, as the two left all form and meter out the window. Though only a few minutes in length, the piece brought the evening full circle to the freedom Lee Konitz and Paul Motian showered the audience with during their portion of the concert.

“Duets on the Hudson” continues in January with a scheduled piano collaboration between Randy Weston and Danilo Perez. In February, there will be an evening of duets featuring alto saxophonist Donald Harrison with cellist Akua Dixon, and pianist Jason Moran with altoist Greg Osby. Yet another date in the same month, for you to write down in your calendar, promises to be more than memorable in summoning the spirit of Coltrane with Coltrane drummer Rashied Ali who will be accompanied by Coltrane-inspired tenor saxophonist, Anthoine Roney.

Just a friendly reminder…keep your ears open to the music!