BY MATT BODEN
Jazz at Lincoln Centre Orchestra with Wynton Marsalis and the MSO (Nicholas Buc, conductor)
Hamer Hall, 1 March
It isn’t often that I get this excited by an upcoming gig.
It had all the right ingredients: music by the old masters, and by a new master. Improvisers of the highest calibre. A large-format new work combining the best of both worlds. And, one of the greatest musicians of our time, period, in any genre, masterminding the entire thing.
Couldn’t be better.
Also, it isn’t often there’s such a pre-show buzz in a concert hall. At Hamer Hall, the enthusiasm was spilling over even before show time. This speaks volumes to Marsalis’ profundity – audiences the world over surely know they’ll be renewed and re-energised whenever they catch him in a show.
The Jazz at Lincoln Centre Orchestra walked on stage to rapturous applause before the musicians took their seats. Marsalis spoke briefly from his chair in the trumpet section and welcomed everyone, setting the mood for the evening. Although he could easily have taken to the front of the stage as the headline artist of this performance, he chose instead to sit among his fellow musicians – a message that seemed to state: ‘Music first’. The MSO would later join this collective on the stage.
Marsalis has an astonishing ability to transform a concert hall into a small club, just with his words, let alone his trumpet.
Marsalis has an astonishing ability to transform a concert hall into a small club, just with his words, let alone his trumpet. We were instantly transported, and I had a taste of that beautiful, joyous feeling that pervades his 2005 Live at the House of Tribes recording. I struggle to come up with any other artist who is so inclusive of the audience in this day and age.
JLCO began the set with Duke Ellington’s 1938 Braggin in Brass. As the name suggests, this is an incredibly virtuosic work. It also provides a launchpad for the soloists in one of the staple forms for improvisers – the rag. The complete and utter mastery on display was phenomenal. Laying down a shouting Ellington work certainly set the tone from the downbeat.
The next work was Amad – the eighth movement from Ellington’s Far East Suite, composed following a tour in 1963. This contained an astonishing trombone feature from Chris Crenshaw, at times appearing to transform the trombone into a mizmar. Deeply moving and inspiring playing. The ninth movement Ad Lib on Nippon followed, this time showcasing Victor Goines on clarinet. Goines’ poise, command, and sheer depth of feeling had me spellbound. I was reminded again and again during the evening that instrumental mastery is all very well (and this was on display in spades: I mean, most of the JLCO reed players were at least quadrupling, for goodness’ sake; and the entire group could raise the roof anywhere, anytime). But musical mastery is what we, as an audience, crave. By this, I mean the ability of a musician to have thoroughly understood the music they are existing within, and then be able to convey this to us, in a manner that speaks deeply to our humanity. I realise this may all sound a little too ineffable, but bear with me. I’ll come back to this in a minute.
Next up on the program was Bernstein’s 1949 Prelude, Fugue and Riffs. While this was an interesting inclusion, it wasn’t a highlight. It seems to have functioned as a bridge between the works of Ellington and Marsalis, and an example of ‘third stream’ (a classical/jazz crossover), but – with all due respect, Bernstein can’t hang with Ellington or Marsalis in this setting.
I feel this is the most successful fusing of the jazz and symphonic worlds yet produced.
Finally, we arrived at Marsalis’ work The Jungle, Symphony No. 4. Without any reservation, I feel this is the most successful fusing of the jazz and symphonic worlds yet produced. An homage to and portrait of New York city, the work takes you on a whirlwind tour of the Big Apple, and also of American music and its influences.
Without assuming to second-guess what’s actually in the score, there were snatches of ragtime and the Charleston through to Broadway, Ellington and Strayhorn’s bittersweet voicings and evocations, Copland-esque gestures, elements of Central and South American music, nods to Stravinsky and Mahler, and of course, the blues by the truckload.
This, however, is a ridiculous oversimplification.
Marsalis’ rich musical imagination has brought together the two vastly differing musical worlds of classical and jazz, and seems to ask us to consider this as a metaphor for the coming together of humanity. In such a place as New York, will humanity thrive together, or split at the seams? The sheer energy, depth of feeling, and sense of optimism embodied by Marsalis seems to hint at the answer.
The MSO did an admirable job with this highly demanding work. And, as an aside, it was a breath of fresh air to hear an Australian state orchestra play a living composer’s work. There should be far more of this. The interplay between JLCO and the orchestral writing was riveting, and allowed some of the more ‘American’ musical moments to breathe, which may not have occurred without the presence of an ensemble such as the JLCO. I was again reminded that the genre we often label as ‘Western art music’ struggles with the depth of jazz’s subtleties – the ‘correct pitches’ are only a fraction of the equation. Swing and the blues cannot be notated, and traditional European forms of notation completely collapse when faced with the nuances of jazz rhythm.
To return to the ineffable, this gig was an embodiment of joyous humanity. True works of art such as this are transcendent. JLCO’s obvious and generous love for the music, and each other, was a brilliant shaft of light in an often gloomy world. Marsalis’ expansive and thrilling tribute to NYC was utterly captivating.
The sixth and final movement of The Jungle concluded with Marsalis declaiming through his horn, descending to a whisper. Three standing ovations later, JLCO reappeared to play C Jam Blues, featuring every one of its improvisers – a beautiful gesture.
With masters such as Marsalis walking the planet, music as a whole is in the best possible hands.
Images supplied. Credit: Daniel Aulsebrook.
