Charles Mingus: In Argentina: The Buenos Aires Concerts

Resonance Records specializes in the release of such sonic documents, serving both the history of jazz and the sheer pleasure that albums of this kind offer to collectors. It is, therefore, with immense delight that we rediscover in this recording Charles Mingus (bass and piano), Ricky Ford (tenor saxophone), Jack Walrath (trumpet;), Robert Neloms (piano), Dannie Richmond (drums), and immerse ourselves in the year 1977, when this album was recorded. The era's unmistakable imprint lingers in the sound, though the tracks have been meticulously restored. This double album includes a detailed 36-page booklet featuring liner notes by jazz historian and author Brian Priestley, as well as interviews with Ford and Walrath. It is an official release, produced in collaboration with Jazz Workshop, Inc. and the Mingus estate. A vinyl edition (3 LPs) is also available.

To place ourselves in the context of the time: between 1976 and 1983, Argentina was in the grip of a brutal dictatorship. A privileged and carefree youth thrived even as the ruling junta relentlessly silenced its dissenters. The silver lining, if one can be found, is that concerts of this nature were still able to take place, leaving us with a recorded document that, quite evidently, was initially intended solely for the LP market. In his essay, Priestley remarks that the ensemble Mingus led to Buenos Aires was, if not entirely overlooked, certainly underappreciated for its true worth.

"What has been written about Mingus' ongoing performances with his regular quintet consists primarily of brief mentions in concert reviews," Priestley states. The exception, of course, is the contribution of Argentine writer Claudio Parisi, whose reflections, translated here from the original Spanish into English, are also featured in the booklet. But beyond the commentary surrounding the aforementioned album, most of the media coverage Mingus received at the time expressed only moderate enthusiasm for his then-current ensemble.

"Of course, the long-term reputation of the 1977 group was hardly helped by the fact that virtually none of its work was preserved. A few limited-edition bootlegs of live performances surfaced and then disappeared, while all contemporary studio recordings featured larger ensembles—among them, Three or Four Shades of Blues, which, in terms of scale, was actually the most modest. Thus, this album stands as the first legitimate release, endorsed by the Mingus estate, to properly showcase his quintet as it was in 1977," Priestley continues. Mingus and his group of the time remain strikingly modern, inspired and inspiring.

Within these recordings, one already hears traces of the jazz we know so well today—at times tinged with a world music influence, at others infused with the electrifying madness characteristic of the late '70s. Beyond its historical significance, this album is also a masterclass in music, an unparalleled pleasure and a living testimony to a band at the top of their game.