Tone Presence: Darius Jones Trio at the Shea Theater

Your sound makes you, you. Apart from phraseology and note choice, your sound is your benchmark, the personal stamp that distinguishes you from everyone else. Just as a person’s gait, fingerprint and facial expressions are unique, the timbre produced on your instrument can be a clear identifier. We rejoice in the distinctive sounds coaxed from the alto saxophones of Paul Desmond, Johnny Hodges, Eric Dolphy, Sonny Criss, Oliver Lake and Arthur Blythe. You can add Darius Jones to that list.

Giovanni Russonello called Jones’ sound “widely dilated, yet so rough it could peel paint — he could make a living off his tone alone." It put me in mind of Terrence McKenna’s proposition, that “from a species perspective, the job of each individual is to be unlike anyone’s who’s living or has ever lived.”

The Darius Jones Trio, with Chris Lightcap (bass) and Jason Nazary (drums), kicked off season 14 of Pioneer Valley Jazz Shares on September 13 at the Shea Theater with an incisive evening of original music. Having performed the previous two nights in Chicago (Sound & Gravity Festival) and New Haven (Firehouse 12), the Trio was primed to inhabit Jones’ malleable compositions; 90 of us listened in on their conversation.

The concert drew from the alto saxophonist’s latest release, Legend of e’Boi (The Hypervigilant Eye), with a series of distinct explorations that unfurled with unhurried intensity. On “We Inside Now”, Jones delivered long, plaintive notes that hung in the air like blue trails. He resisted the urge to speed the tempo or embellish the tune’s simple melody, opting instead to concentrate on that penetrating tone of his, moving from multi-phonic growls to notes of honeyed melancholy.

“Jones has a big, fleshy, lived-in tone, with a vibrato that owes as much to Johnny Hodges as it does to Albert Ayler,” Ed Hazell wrote in Point of Departure. “It’s defiant, vulnerable, proud, and weary; there is laughter and sobbing in it. He imbues simple melodies and phrases with huge emotional weight.”

“We Outside”, also began at a relaxed tempo before Lightcap and Nazary upped the ante by accelerating into a driving double-time with flecks of funk. Jones responded in kind with a fusillade of split-tones and staccato attacks. Without a microphone in sight, the trio filled the venerable Turners Falls venue with deep-hued vibrations.

Maybe because he is not as well-known as his bandmates, Jason Nazary was a revelation. The 41 year old drummer accompanied Jones on a Jazz Shares concert in 2017, and has worked with Jones for the better part of a decade in his trio and the cooperative quartet, Little Women. He also performed with the late Jamie Branch as Anteloper, and is part of Amirtha Kidambi’s Elder Ones. His fills and accents were spot on, fresh and consistently devoid of cliché. Within the modest trio configuration, there was plenty of space for showy display, but Nazary never resorted to attention grabbing. For someone with copious experience with beats and electronics, Nazary seemed to revel in the acoustic sound of his instrument.

People still talk about Chris Lightcap’s Bigmouth concert in Greenfield in 2016. The same penchant for ear-grabbing hooks prevalent in his writing could be heard in his bass playing on Saturday. Situated between sax and drums, Lightcap was very much in the middle of things, and his resonate sound, abetted by a new Jazz Shares Markbass amp, gave us a harmonic anchor. His arco playing on “No More My Lord” dovetailed deeply with Jones’ careening wails. A bonus: we got to meet Lightcap’s son, Sebastian, a UMass student, at the show; we’ll see the bassist again in November with Jon Irabagon’s Quintet.

From the stage, Jones shared his thoughts and some history about, “No More My Lord”, known through Alan Lomax’s 1948 recording of Henry Jimpson Wallace at the Parchment Farm (MS) prison. Jones reflected on the brilliance of the music, the humanity of the person who created it, and the system of oppression that birthed it.

The career of the 47-year old saxophonist is advancing on multiple fronts. He is beginning his second year as Assistant Professor of Music at Wesleyan University in Middletown, CT. In 2024, he joined the Roulette Intermedium Board of Directors, and became a member of the International Contemporary Ensemble. His 2023 recording, fLuXkit Vancouver (its suite but sacred), was listed among the best releases of the year by NPR and The Wire, and he was featured on the cover of The Wire in April, 2024. His 13 recordings as a leader include compositions written for four voices, string quartet, small ensembles, and duets with Matthew Shipp. Darius Jones has big thoughts and large aspirations concerning music. Don’t be surprised to see him garnering major awards and prizes in the years ahead. His sound precedes him.

The Long, Winding Road: Two Brass Hit Plays Holyoke

The 24th and concluding concert of Pioneer Valley Jazz Shares’ 13th season, featuring the cooperative quartet, Two Brass Hit, traveled a circuitous route to completion. The event, originally scheduled for January 16, hit its first speed bump when trumpeter Herb Robertson passed away suddenly on December 10. The concert was the brainchild of drummer Phil Haynes, and was to feature Robertson, fellow trumpeter Thomas Heberer and bassist Ken Filiano. Soon after Haynes enlisted Nate Wooley to replace Robertson, the drummer developed a serious health issue that forced a postponement. Finally, on June 18 at Holyoke Media the concert came to fruition. The spirit of Herb Robertson inspired some of the most impassioned playing of the year, and was the perfect note to end the season.

Subtitled “Herb Robertson Lives”, Two Brass Hit delivered a 70-minute clinic on the art of improvisation. After the show I asked Heberer if some of the material was worked out in advance. There were sections when the two trumpets swirled in harmonious, baroque-like counterpoint, which I was sure was pre-conceived. No, he told me, they were just listening and reacting to each other in real time.

Over his 40 year career, Haynes has a substantial history with the saxophone (Dave Liebman, Vinny Golia, Ellery Eskelin), and with strings (Drew Gress, Jim Yanda, Hank Roberts), but it seems he has developed a special relationship with the trumpet, and those who play it.

It began with trumpeter Paul Smoker (1941-2016), who was a mentor at Coe College in Iowa and the person most responsible for Haynes’ musical development and subsequent career success. Just after graduating in 1982, Haynes joined Smoker’s Trio. His recording debut with the Trio, QB, with Anthony Braxton, was named the #1 recording of 1985 by critic Kevin Whitehead. Young Haynes was soon part of  the composer’s cooperative, Joint Venture, (with Eskelin, Gress and Smoker), and continued to play with Smoker until his passing. He has made it his mission to keep the trumpeter’s legacy alive.

His relationship with Robertson spans 35 years and is also deep. “Herb Robertson revolutionized my approach to improvising,” Haynes wrote to bandmates before the concert. “I can listen back and hear my conceptual approaches before first working with Herbie – in Brooklyn, NY, around 1990 – and then everything I’ve done since.” Like Smoker, Robertson’s impact on the jazz world exceeds his place in the public eye. Here is the effect he had on Nate Wooley.

Wooley was the perfect stand in for Robertson. Although he didn’t employ Robertson’s bag of toys, his risk taking and off-the-chart chops were in keeping with the much missed New Jeresyan. A thought leader (see, Sound American) and a restless musician who has translated the Columbia Icefield into sound and reinterpreted Wynton Marsalis’ early Columbia recordings, Wooley never sounded less than amazing. There are things he does on his instrument that no one else can do, but his point is never to wow for wows sake, but to advance the music. He’ll be in Springfield on November 23 as a special guest with Jon Iragabon’s Quartet.

Thomas Heberer, Wolley’s equally gifted front-line partner, was a great match. They had played together in larger ensembles, but never in this intimate a setting. We remarked over dinner that while two tenor bands are common, two trumpet frontlines are rare, and when they do occur they are usually cutting contests. If you’re listening with eyes open it’s impossible not to compare players of the same instrument, but there was no hint of competition on Wednesday, only an energetic conversation that became deeper as the evening unfolded. At one point I opened my eyes wanting to know who was making a particularly arresting buzzing sound. Neither trumpeter had the instrument to his lips, and it took me a confused minute to realize Heberer was vocalizing. I’ve been beguiled by the German trumpeter since 2006 when he performed at UMass with the Instant Composers Pool Orchestra. I was further smitten when I heard him perform alone with a dancer at the Vision Festival some years ago.

Filiano is a fixture. Because he brings so much musicality and good spirit to every band he’s part of, he often gets invited to participate. He’ll be back in January with Vinny Golia’s Trio. In fact, Filiano and Haynes go back 30 years to their time together in the Vinny Golia-Paul Smoker Quartet. Without resorting to strict time keeping, the rhythm team kept the pulse strong and the environment rich. There was ample space for different subsets of the quartet to interact, giving everybody a chance to showcase their considerable talents.

Haynes played his chocolate-brown, custom-made Ayotte drum kit, coaxing rich, beautiful  tones that matched the dark shells. In addition to playing with brushes, sticks and mallets, Haynes struck his instrument with a set of plastic strips in each hand, creating a rumbling cacophony played with a refreshing lack of precision. He was a constant source of creative energy and having fun in the process.

"The straight line is godless and immoral" said the Austrian artist Friedensreich Hundertwasser. He believed that straight lines, often found in architecture and rational design, were constricting and devoid of the organic qualities found in nature and the human spirit. The path leading to this first performance by Two Brass Hit was anything but straightforward, and the music we heard in Holyoke overflowed with twists and turns. Maybe because of that the music sounded fully ripe.

Hamid Drake and William Parker Pay a Visit to Springfield

The season schedule of Pioneer Valley Jazz Shares was completely full before we received a phone call from Patricia Parker, Executive Director of Arts For Art, who reported that percussionist Hamid Drake would be in New York for the annual Vision Festival and was available to play. Would we be interested in a duo with bassist William Parker? Despite 23 events already on the docket, including a recently arranged house concert with drummer Gerry Hemingway and pianist Izumi Kimura, we said “yes” without hesitation. You don’t refuse an offer like that, and so on June 12, Drake and Parker performed in Springfield for 85 rapturous listeners at New England Public Media.

Drake, who turns 70 in August, is, like his former collaborator Don Cherry, a world traveler. He spends much of his time in Milan these days, and his visits to North America have decreased in recent years, making his appearance even more special. Drake was born in Monroe, Louisiana, raised in Chicago, and since the late 1990s has regularly graced western Massachusetts stages, first under the auspices of Michael Ehlers and later through the efforts of yours truly. His last visit was a Magic Triangle Jazz Series concert with Adam Rudolph and Ralph Jones in 2017.

Now 73, Parker was born and raised in New York, and has been an even more frequent visitor to these parts over the years. His first forays were at Ehlers’ “Fire in the Valley” gatherings in the mid-1990s, and he has subsequently participated in multiple UMass Solos & Duos and Magic Triangle concerts, along with numerous Jazz Shares events. This was the 15th time we’ve worked together.

Drake and Parker first collaborated in Peter Brötzmann’s band in the early 1990s. Also featuring trumpeter Toshinori Kondo, the group was called Die Like a Dog, after the title of their first recording. Drake and Parker performed in the Valley as a duo at Bezanson Recital Hall in 2004, a few years after the release of their celebrated recording, Piercing the Veil. In the interceding two decades they have lost none of their communicative power.

Over 20 years ago Phil Freeman called them “the best rhythm section in jazz”, and their rapport remains intact. Without discussion or written music, Drake and Parker launched into a driving groove on drum kit and bass, respectively. The lines they weaved were supple and organic, and despite shifts in mood and texture, the music retained the force of life. Over the past couple of years, health issues have sapped Parker’s energy and curtailed his bass playing. Having just heard him multiple times at the Vision Festival as well as in Springfield on Thursday, I’m here to report that Parker is back, playing with power and his usual indomitable spirit. More than once, after some crunchy smears and a flurry of high intensity notes, Parker would bring some funk to the fore with a few fat tones, illuminating what Graham Collier called the music’s “deep dark blue centre.”

About half-way through the set, Drake, with painted fingernails, took an extended turn on frame drum. He has been playing tabla and other non-western percussion since he was part of the Mandingo Griot Society in the late 1970s. So the variety of tones and articulate rhythmic patterns he produced on this simple instrument came as no surprise. Still, it’s always amazing. Parker moved between n’goni and sintir (African strings), and a wind instrument shaped like a bassoon but clearly not from Europe. The music moved closer to the multivalent world of Codona or Oregon, and NEPM’s Studio A was transformed from a black box theater to a spiritual hermitage.  Drake sung prayers in multiple languages, beginning in Hebrew, then what sounded like Arabic and Sanskrit. The effect was transformative and at least for a moment, we were unburdened from the weight of a world out of balance.

Parker is a modern-day griot. He is not only the most creative bassist of the past 45 years and a linchpin of the NY jazz scene, he is an easy-going story teller, who speaks in aphorism and metaphor. “I approach the bass as a drum set,” he told us. “The G string is my ride cymbal, the D string is my snare, the A string is my tom-toms, and the E string is my low gong. That’s how I approach it.” Later he made an analogy in which sound is water. “When it vibrates, it turns into steam and changes properties and appearance,” he said. “When it changes, you can step into another place, the tone world.” It seemed significant that the only “merch” he brought were his books: “Who Owns Music?”, “Voices in the First Person”, a few volumes of his “Conversations” series, along with Cisco Bradley’s 2021 biography, “Universal Tonality: The Life and Music of William Parker”.

“There was no greater joy for me than to get in the car and drive up to the University of Massachusetts, where I knew I would be treated like a king,” Parker wrote in “Close to the Music: 25 Years of Magic Triangle Jazz Series”.

We treated him like royalty because for a long time now, we have recognized him as our philosopher king. As much as possible, I surround myself with people who are wise and kind, so William Parker and Hamid Drake, the mayor of the East Village and the cosmic master of rhythm, are welcome anytime.