If you try to contact me using the Jazz Observer contact form, you’ll note that I require you to fill in your email address. This helps reduce random spam and other problems. So far, so good. But a faulty installation of the form prevented those email addresses from being sent to me. Thus I’ve been getting a lot of email from jazzoberver.com with no return address attached. So I can’t reply.

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This error has now been corrected. Unfortunately, I can’t recover those “from” addresses, so I can’t respond to any past inquiries which didn’t include an email address in the body of the message. Please feel free to try again now that it’s fixed.

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Roy Hargrove. Photo courtsey Groovin' High Records

Roy Hargrove and Pharoah Sanders… at first glance it might have looked like a misprint. But it was true.

Kicking off a two-week residency that Yoshi’s hopes to make an annual tradition, Hargrove’s quintet was booked at the club’s San Francisco stage for four nights with saxophonist Sanders as a special guest star. But would this unlikely pairing of divergent musical personalities work? On the one hand was a trumpeter who’s making the jazz mainstream cool again through his quintet, as well as his RH Factor group (playing the second half of the residency this week) and a classic big band. On the other side, an icon of the spiritualistic free-jazz movement, whose passionate, primal channeling of cosmic forces seems wholly at odds with Hargrove’s frictionless grooves.

The results, as displayed to a sell-out crowd in Saturday’s first set, were somewhat mixed. Hargrove was great. Sanders was great. Their brief on-stage collaboration was less than great, but the people got their money’s worth.

Hargrove’s group was fully in sync from the first moment. They opened with “Starmaker,” a cool indigo-toned ballad, then gradually turned up the heat over the next 40 minutes. Looking dapper in tan suit, stingy brim and brand-new Nikes, Hargrove drew a graceful, backwards arc with his body as he soloed, his horn pointing straight ahead. Even-tempered at first, Hargrove stayed warm and cozy on the slower numbers, but flared up and rode his band’s rhythmic surges like a rodeo cowboy, responding to pressure from drummer Montez Coleman with a powerful trill that may have cut a hole in the ozone layer.

When Sanders emerged, with his white beard and intense gaze, the rhythm section suddenly sounded like a completely different band, now playing the outside of the rhythm. Chalk that up to the versatility of Coleman and bassist Ameen Saleem, but even more remarkable was the fluid playing of pianist Sullivan Fortner. In the first half of the show, Fortner’s economical but emotionally rich lines were like a flowing stream, pursuing a multitude of melodic ideas without sacrificing clarity. But behind Sanders, he became a mystic, his playing saturated with ethereal colors as if cast from a stained-glass window. Sanders’ own solo was as serious as your life, building up in density and dynamism from discrete arpeggios to throaty cries.

Hargrove and Sanders stayed clear of each other at first, but came together for two final tunes, “The Serenity of Solitude” and “Camaraderie.” Sanders lost his place in the former, temporarily depriving the lovely, dusky ballad of some harmony, but once he recovered the results were fascinating. Hargrove’s approach to the tune was romantic and sexy. But Sanders came at it with a feeling of deep, devotional reverence that transformed the tune into a kind of prayer.

This last section of the concert was all about the reconciliation of divergent styles — in addition to Hargrove’s cool glide and Sanders’ rootsy fire, alto saxophonist Justin Robinson’s straight-up bebop lines (at one point directly quoting Charlie Parker) added further diversity. But even if a true unity of spirit proved elusive, the experiment was clearly a success. All parties involved played beautifully, and the rhythm section did much to bridge the gaps.

And now Bay Area jazz fans can say it: “I saw Roy and Pharoah play together once. No, really!”

This well-named disc from tenor saxophonist Wayne Escoffery pulses with urban energy and old-school soul, contrasting firmly modernistic jazz statements with swinging feel-good grooves. Escoffery’s solos are like towering monoliths, huge, dense and hard as stone, as his notes spill over in seemingly endless streams as the rest of his quartet offers thick, buoyant support. Organist Gary Versace sounds flat-out retro on several tracks, skipping with a happy nimbleness over solid foot-pedal basslines straight out of the 1960s, but also adds mystery to the exotic “Road from Eilat/Gulf of Aqaba” and the flinty “No Desert.” Avi Rothbard keeps things cool and groovy on guitar, gliding through Jason Brown’s lively drumming in “Cross Bronx” and the catchy, danceable “Nu Soul.” No new ground is broken here, but this disc will satisfy an itch for the classic, and Escoffery’s titanic sax sound is always welcome.

Von Freeman
Vonski Speaks (Nessa)

Recorded live at Jazzfest Berlin in 2002, this set finds Chicago sax icon Von Freeman in good humor and fine form, blazing through ten and a half minutes of cyclonic bebop in the title track before settling down for three even longer numbers taken at relaxed tempos. Freeman’s slippery, acrobatic approach and gruff yet creaky tone are on full display in the extended solo spaces: his exuberant loop-de-loops skid and slide with abandon over the cool groove of his quartet. He is perhaps most remarkable in “Summertime,” giving the tune’s first section an otherworldly sobbing quality before switching to a breezy walk. Bassist Jack Zara is also inspired, playing with laser precision on “Vonski Speaks” and deep emotion in “Darn That Dream.” Mike Allemana’s friendly guitar lifts the group with a clean, classic sound, and drummer Michael Raynor skitters, rolls, slumps and shuffles underneath for a touch of mystery.

Komeda Project
Requiem (WM)
www.komedaproject.com

This is the second release by Komeda Project, a group highlighting the work of renowned Polish jazz musician and film composer Krzysztof Komeda. For this session the band recruited two newcomers to the music — bassist Scott Colley and drummer Nasheet Waits — seeking an openness and creative spark that would lift the music above mere recitation or revival. That gamble pays off. Colley and Waits sound right at home, reshaping space around the core of pianist Andrzej Winnicki, trumpeter Russ Johnson and saxophonist Krzysztof Medyna. After the episodic, three-part “Night-time, Daytime Requiem,” the group blossoms in a series of enigmatic pieces: ballads, Spanish-tinged marches, micro-suites stuffed with conflicted emotions. Johnson and Medyna trade off buzzing solos as Winnicki plumbs the center of each tune with economical eloquence.

Donny McCaslin
Declaration (Sunnyside)
www.donnymccaslin.com

It seems like Donny McCaslin can do no wrong these days: with each new release as a leader, the tenor saxophonist reveals more of his complex musical personality while raising the bar with his impassioned, thrilling solos. Time and again on Declaration, the leader pours it on, soaring from introspective themes to high, spinning orbits. But Declaration also shows McCaslin’s growing mastery as a composer/arranger. Take “Fat Cat” for example — as it rises from moody beginnings to a surging, Latin-tinged drive over a tricky rhythmic base, this nine-minute tune stacks and contrasts a set of distinct compositional elements like a mosaic, full of surprising intersections. Throughout the disc, McCaslin’s quintet — supplemented by up to five additional brass at key moments, works like a well-oiled machine. Shout-outs to Edward Simon’s impressionistic piano, Ben Monder’s melancholy guitar wail and David Binney’s sparkling production work.

James Weidman
Three Worlds (Inner Circle)
www.jamesweidman.com

Pianist James Weidman makes a strong case for greater recognition with this set of original music for quintet, quartet and trio. He marks his territory boldly in the disc’s first half, subverting the friendly mainstream air with lopsided tune structures and a quirky harmonic approach. Weidman’s odd chord voicings on these pieces create a feeling of imprecision, as if he had been skewed a few degrees out of alignment. This sense is reinforced by Ray Anderson’s warbling, oblique trombone, while Marty Ehrlich’s clarinet and sax work has a stabilizing effect. As the disc progresses, eccentricity gives way to more familiar, but no less inventive, settings. Vibraphonist Jay Hoggard shimmers beautifully in two quartet tracks, directly engaging Weidman’s exuberant piano at the end of “Theme for You,” while the rhythm tandem of bassist Brad Jones and drummer Francisco Mela sounds terrific throughout the set, particularly in the excellent, lively “Razz 2.0”.

There’s no mistaking the South Asian influence in Pakistani-American guitarist Rez Abbasi’s latest disc. His sinuous guitar lines wind through tricky compound rhythms and slide across the acrobatic, moaning vocals of Kiran Ahluwalia, while saxophonist Rudresh Mahanthappa pops and twirls in tense, ornate improvisations that carry more than a hint of raga. But the eight thoughtful, chewy tunes presented here are more about personal jazz expression than stylistic fusion. Fronting an excellent band that also includes Vijay Iyer’s bright piano surge and tight rhythmic work by bassist Johannes Weidenmuller and drummer Dan Weiss, Abbasi creates rich, brooding soundscapes that drift and rush into swirling eddies like river currents, splashing and spraying in multiple directions. This serious, compelling music rewards close listening.

Alex Coke / Tina Marsh / Steve Feld
It’s Possible (Vox Lox)
www.creop.org

The sounds on this trio CD are both ancient and postmodern, universal and obscure. Reed and flute player Alex Coke and singer Tina Marsh have a long association through an Austin, Texas ensemble called the Creative Opportunity Orchestra, and their simpatico is evident from the first mysterious notes of It’s Possible. Marsh’s vocals stretch and twist around Coke’s moaning, buzzing spirals and keening, fluttering lines like taffy, soaring high overhead and then dropping down for whispered syllables like some half-heard Balinese monkey chant. Beneath them, the calming tones of Steve Feld’s ashiwa (a West African slit drum) give the pieces an enigmatic, almost ritualistic air. On several tracks, the trio improvises over existing recordings which we do not hear. These pieces are missing their cores, but what is left is fascinating: disconnected reaction that implies but does not reveal the whole. The results are weird, spooky and restlessly inventive.

Jonathon Haffner
Life on Wednesday (Cachuma)
www.jonathonhaffner.com

Saxophonist Jonathon Haffner leads a grinding, talent-packed electro-acoustic sextet in Life on Wednesday, an intriguing mix of rock-jazz romps, contemplative interludes and open electronic soundscapes. Two drummers (Jochen Rueckert and Kenny Wollesen) provide the energy, while Craig Taborn’s flowing or jittery piano, robotic Wurlitzer and gloopy electronic doodles provide much of the texture and space. Haffner’s alto has a strong, stirring sound, building from a lonely call to a nasty wail in “Formigas,” cranking at full speed on “Wednesday Night Firsts” or providing simple strength in “New Year.” Guitarist Wayne Krantz chugs and slices against Eivind Opsvik’s solid bass work, rounding out this well-coordinated ensemble.

Darryl Harper
Stories in Real Time (HiPNOTIC)
www.darrylharperjazz.com

The unusual sound of Darryl Harper’s C3 octet, with four clarinets balanced against vocals and rhythm, is luxurious, agile and highly organic in this beautiful set of thirteen compelling tunes. The disc opens with “Saints and Sinners,” a six-part suite lovingly constructed around poems of faith and lust by Terry Culleton, with vocalist Marianne Solivan winding and stabbing through the baroque lyrics and the band reacting both to the words and their cadences in perfect accord. From there the full band alternates with the clarinet quartet as Harper explores classical, jazz and cinematic spaces in a set of specially commissioned works by composers such as Ken Schaphorst and Sunggone Hwang, even taking detours into gospel and funk. Throughout, the ensemble’s rich harmonies, rhythmic certainty and impish, changeable character keep the music unpredictable, fresh, and approachable.

Arturo Stable Quintet
Call (Origen)
www.arturostable.com

Strong Afro-Cuban rhythms, brainy yet inviting modern-jazz harmonics and genuine emotional depth are the hallmarks of Call, the third release by Cuban-American percussionist Arturo Stable and a worthy follow-up to his outstanding previous disc, Notes on Canvas. But whereas that CD had a grand scale, this one sticks to a tight quintet for a more uniform sound. Saxophonist Javier Vercher and pianist Aruan Ortiz are out front, with the former’s straightforward tone and stabbing wail jostling with the latter’s delicately formed, carefully balanced textures. Stable keeps busy on buzzing uptempo numbers and tender ballads alike, laying down undulating waves of rhythm under bassist Edward Perez’s eloquently melodic commentary, and combining seamlessly with Francisco Mela’s drum kit. Yet it’s the compositions, even more than the musicians, that shine here: ten brilliant jewels that flash fire and project stony solidity, inviting the listener to plumb their depths even while withholding their deepest secrets.

Marcus Strickland Trio
Idiosyncracies (Strick Muzik)
www.marcusstrickland.com

Saxophonist Marcus Strickland gets a variety of textures out of his trio on Idiosyncracies, keeping the mood varied to go along with the eclectic material. Adding tunes from such diverse artists as Björk, Andre 3000, Stevie Wonder and Oumou Sangare to five original pieces, Strickland gets into a range of interesting grooves while making each of the melodies his own. Uptempo numbers like “Middle Man,” “Set Free” and “Cuspy’s Delight” are bright and chunky, while Sangare’s “Nebife” has a wonderful flow and plenty of space for Ben Williams’s lilting bass. E.J. Strickland finds just the right blend of propulsion and space to make each piece distinctive, while the leader alternates throaty musings and swift beboppish runs, along with a few judiciously used studio effects, to get the most from his small ensemble.

Early in her 8:00 set at Yoshi’s San Francisco, pianist Toshiko Akiyoshi spoke in charmingly accented English about the salad days of her six-decade career. She said that after spending her youth in Japan absorbing and imitating other pianists, she eventually realized “the need to find my own idiosyncracies.”

The highly individualistic voice she discovered was on prominent display in this hard-swinging quartet gig, along with the turbo-charged sax and flute playing of Akiyoshi’s husband, Lew Tabackin. Although few were on hand to hear this stripped-down alternative to their acclaimed big band, Akiyoshi and Tabackin filled the void with a quirky, vibrant brand of high-energy bebop.

Akiyoshi’s style can take a couple of tunes to adjust to, and her unaccompanied solo break in the opening “Long Yellow Road” (Akiyoshi’s de facto theme song) was like a crash course. Swinging yet fascinatingly mercurial, her left hand sounded tart, staccato chords and sudden dissonant crashes, while her right swirled like a dust devil or fluttered willy-nilly like a butterfly, prancing unpredictably and with impish humor.

Tabackin was the dominant force through much of the set. Solid and square-jawed, bending at the waist and knees, Tabackin scuttled a few steps forward or back in frequent moments of blazing intensity. On tenor saxophone, he provided explosive outbursts linked by flowing supersonic flights, his incredible breath control making it all sound seamless. And his tribute to Coleman Hawkins in “Self Portrait of the Bean” poured out like whiskey, a gruff, bluesy ode to the night owls.

But Tabackin’s finest moment came on flute. “Autumn Sea” felt like a kabuki theatre performance, coming down from Akiyoshi’s bright, bouncing intro to a hauntingly expressive, shakuhachi-like solo, slow and vast, punctuated by stamps of Tabackin’s foot and, later, low mallet work by drummer Mark Taylor.

Taylor and bassist Peter Washington kept the sound fresh with brisk, skipping rhythm, providing just the right balance of straightforward drive and agile openness for the co-leaders’ unique east-west bop attack. It’s a sound that lingers in the ear, idiosyncratic indeed, and greatly satisfying.

The 52nd annual Monterey Jazz Festival has come to a successful conclusion. Once again, the festival organizers have brought together fantastic music and a warm community atmosphere for an experience that will be remembered for years to come.

Attendance was clearly lower than the past two years, but hopefully strong enough to keep the festival moving onward and upward. Those who sat out this year missed a phenomenal program of music: as I commented on another blog, the artists at this year’s MJF could have been spread across two or even three festivals and all would have been first rate. I already regret all the shows I missed: Joe Lovano’s Us Five, Dee Dee Bridgewater (twice!), Wayne Wallace, Pete Seeger… But on the other hand, I can honestly say I didn’t hear a bad set the entire weekend, even if a few weren’t quite my cup of tea or failed to inspire a review.

Memorable Moments:

• John Scofield and Ruthie Foster privide a super-powered one-two punch of blues, gospel and soul on Saturday afternoon.
• Scott Amendola, Buffalo Collision and Jason Moran push the envelope, losing some but enthralling others.
• Excellent sets from John Patitucci, Ambrose Akinmusire and Vijay Iyer push the music forward, while Terrence Brewer, Dave Brubeck and the Erskine/Pasqua Trio show how much life remains in the jazz tradition.

Best Discovery:

Alfredo Rodriguez has a stunningly original conception of Cuban piano. I would love to hear him play in a more intimate setting, preferably one with better sound than the outdoor Garden Stage.

And while I was already aware of both Ruthie Foster and Ambrose Akinmusire, each made me discover their talents all over again with outstanding performances.

Best show I heard but did not review:

Vijay Iyer’s first set in the Coffee House Lounge on Sunday was exuberant, with compelling original tunes like the swirling “Window Text” meeting inventive takes on Andrew Hill and Leonard Bernstein.

Best reason to come back in 2010:

There’s no place like Monterey.

Jason Moran. Photograph by Clay Patrick McBride, courtesy of Monterey Jazz Festival.

The Monterey Jazz Festival’s annual commission for new original work often yields something unexpected and memorable. But perhaps never has there been a festival commision as unusual as “Feedback,” the 20-minute piece premiered by pianist Jason Moran at the start of Sunday night’s Arena program.

Moran often uses recorded sources, such as voices or other songs, as a basis for live improvisation. In “Feedback” he went one step further, taking snippets of amplifier feedback from Jimi Hendrix’s legendary 1967 performance on the same Arena stage (at the famed Monterey Pop Festival), and building an entire world upon it.

“I won’t be offended if you cover your ears or if you leave,” Moran said, almost apologetically, before the performance. But while the sound did grow piercingly loud at times, the atmosphere in the piece’s first half was primarily one of calm remembrance.

Siren-like tones of feedback became an ambient loop under Moran’s piano (briefly played with a beer bottle sliding along the inner strings) and tumbling, grumbling sounds from bassist Tarus Mateen and drummer Nasheet Waits — their combined efforts like a building collapsing in slow motion. Moran added fresh feedback of his own, moving a microphone in and out, up and down around a tower of speakers at the edge of the stage.

Later in the piece, the feedback receded under a floating, breathing excursion from the trio, which soon grew into a quickening funk pulse. Moran switched to Fender Rhodes keyboard against Waits’ techno-style beat and Mateen’s breakneck bassline, building to a brilliant starburst of energy.

An audience participation section at the end caught everyone by surprise. One half of the Arena was assigned the task of singing one droning note, while the other half swooped up and down above them. Many were befuddled, but that long whooping noise can still be heard coming from people walking the festival midway as I type this review, well after the performance has ended.

Buffalo Collision. Photograph courtesy Monterey Jazz Festival.

The Monterey Jazz Festival took an abrupt turn into the avant-garde when Buffalo Collision, a unique combination of two advanced strains of freeform jazz, took the Garden Stage for the space between Sunday’s afternoon and evening programs.

On the one hand were pioneering saxophonist Tim Berne and free cellist Hank Roberts. On the other, Ethan Iverson and Dave King, two thirds of iconoclastic trio The Bad Plus. Together, they made deeply challenging yet rigorously logical music.

Berne stood off to the side, facing Roberts’ position at center stage rather than the audience, whom nobody seemed to acknowledge. When a small jet screamed overhead early in the performance, Berne took it as a signal, replying with a harsh screech that kicked the ensemble from quiet musing to agitated action. He bounced on his toes as the energy rose to a fevered pitch, his alto sax lines focusing into a tense beam. At one point, Berne dropped a plastic water bottle into the bell of his horn, producing a high, keening scrape. At other times, he probed with stretching squeaks and ducked back into fragments of boppish melody in an ever-shifting mix.

Roberts gripped his cello sidewise brtween his legs, arcing or bunching his body as he bowed melancholy passages or low scribblings. Soloing, Roberts sustained a skritchy scribble or drifted into Asian-toned atmospheres, occasionally squeezing down on his instrument as if to asphyxiate it.

Dave King ranks with Han Bennink as one of the world’s most visual drummers. Even when playing almost nothing, he appeared mere seconds away from smashing his kit to splinters. But for the most part he played quite a bit, laying down thick rumbling carpets or madly piling percussive noise on top of the others’ solos. And pianist Iverson painted the scene in dissonant shades and umbral tones, alternating widely spaced, unadorned chords with meandering strings of notes that navigated dark labyrinths like Ariadne’s mythical thread.

Such alien noises were too much for most folks. Few ventured into the Garden Stage area, fewer stayed for more than a few minutes. But those who remained got an earful. Bravo to the Monterey Jazz Festival for bringing this exceptional group in from the fringes.

Alfredo Rodriguez. Photograph courtesy Monterey Jazz Festival.

From the start of his late afternoon set at the Monterey Jazz Festival’s Garden Stage, Cuban pianist Alfredo Rodriguez made it clear that his was music for serious listening. Opening with a piece that slowly coalesced from misty dispersion into a sinister pulse, Rodriguez played short phrases, then extrapolated them up and down the keyboard, repeating or embroidering, pounding away at single chords and describing intricate designs, allowing each only a brief moment of flight before moving on to the next idea.

The music grew more accessible as the set progressed, bringing a classic Cuban sound ever closer to the foreground, but Rodriguez’s intriguing trio never sacrificed its cerebral approach. “Body and Soul” opened with an extended solo by Nathan East, whose standup electric bass danced around the melody, low and introspective with few direct references to the tune. Rodriguez came in with a Thelonious Monk-inspired attack, tiptoeing through the melody and tossing in oddly shaped chords or swirling little arpeggios, then ending with a delicate run that drizzled its way to the extreme ends of the keyboard.

Drummer Francisco Mela made an excellent match for Ridriguez, fuzzing the edges of the slow numbers with quiet rumblings and hissing cymbals. When the occasion demanded more forceful rhythm, Mela responded with a complex patchwork of discrete sounds, a set of overlapping building blocks like some fantastic Legoland construction. Mela and Rodriguez kept each other on their toes: at one point they played a game of musical dodgeball, Rodriguez working the strings inside his piano, before settling into a catchy yet abstracted chugging groove.

It’s not easy to silence the outdoor Garden Stage crowd, but a hush fell over the ground within minutes, and for the next hour the quiet was broken only by enthusiastic applause… and the occasional airplane. It’s still Monterey, after all.

Terrence Brewer. Photograph courtesy Monterey Jazz Festival.

On a beautiful Sunday afternoon at the 52nd annual Monterey Jazz Festival, Bay Area guitarist Terrence Brewer brought good vibes to the crowded Coffe House Gallery, filling the room with warmth, verve and soul as he paid tribute to the legacy of guitar icon Wes Montgomery.

Brewer tends to scowl when he plays, but his music and his manner are cordial and appealing. After flying out of the gate with a rollicking, well-greased version of “Speak Low,” his trio slowed things down a notch and really began to shine.

“Bumpin’” highlighted the similarities between Brewer’s sweetly singing tone and Montgomery’s classic sound. Plump, tart notes rang out, practically leaping forward from Brewer’s gorgeously ruminative solo. Then organist Wil Blades took a soft-spoken, gospel tinged break that puffed itself up and gently faded back over a slow, serious bassline.

“West Coast Blues” had a jaunty swing, and while Brewer took a few liberties with the melodic line, the spirit of Wes was evident. Blades found plenty of inspiration here, finely chopping and scrambling the tune and setting up a joyous solo from Brewer as drummer Micah McClain splashed and tumbled merrily behind him. It was a crowd-pleasing performance from a tight, grooving band.