Music |
Romare Bearden Revealed
Branford Marsalis
By
Published: May 20, 2009
Category:
Jazz
When I think of the name Marsalis, three things immediately are conjured up (usually in this order):
1. Wynton Marsalis — the whiz kid who resurrected jazz in the ’80s and now serves as its spokesman and elder statesman
2. Branford Marsalis — the brother raised in jazz but who chose to slum it with Jay Leno and Sting instead
3. An old New Yorker cartoon, in which a man, reading the newspaper, tells his wife excitedly, "Honey, they found another Marsalis!"
Indeed, it’s that second thought that struck me when my wife handed me “Romare Bearden Revealed” by Branford Marsalis. While cleaning out her desk after resigning as arts editor of an online publication, she found this CD — a freebie given to her at the opening of an exhibition of Bearden’s work four years ago. She brought it home, thinking I might like it.
I was skeptical. To me, Branford, the oldest of the Marsalis brothers, was the guy who laughed at Jay Leno’s “everyman” jokes when he served at bandleader for “The Tonight Show.” But I checked the liner notes and saw that Wynton played on some of the songs, so I gave it a shot. Yes, I was a snob; and now I stand corrected.
The album, conceived as a tribute to, and musical embodiment of, the Harlem painter Bearden’s work, covers the spectrum of jazz styles that served as inspiration to Bearden.
As a college student, I took a jazz appreciation class (I thought of it as part of my cocktail party major) and listened to plenty of scratchy, clipped recordings of Louis Armstrong’s Hot Five and Hot Seven playing nascent, improvisational New Orleans jazz. The recordings were, of course, sonically flat and frustratingly short — such was the technology of the day. That’s why this album’s live recording of “Jungle Blues” is a revelation. On a drawn-out stride rhythm, Branford trades solos with Wynton in a give and take that, to my unknowing ears, sounds like what 1920s Nawlinz must have felt like. People cheering, the Marsalis brothers’ sax and trumpet trading bleating squeals and muted growls while pianist Joel Calderazzo leads a plodding, sweaty rhythm. It’s the Way Back Machine, but cooler.
Moving to more modern times, the elder Marsalis takes his band to bop and post-bop sounds, including playing again with Wynton on the younger brother’s composition, “J Mood.” There’s a stride piano piece performed by Harry Connick, Jr., some Coltrane-esqe modernism — it’s like the cheat sheet to my jazz class, put down in bits and bytes instead of a note in my sleeve.
With only one misstep (the too-lite “Seabreeze”), I finished listening to the CD as if I’d been slapped in the face. Branford Marsalis is a jazzman, not a sidekick? Am I the first person to discover this? Of course not. I went to the texts and references and found out that my benign disdain of Branford as a musician was based on complete ignorance. He started his professional life touring with Art Blakey and Herbie Hancock. He runs his own jazz label. He’s making me look like a fool.
Get “Romare Bearden Revealed,” take a short course in jazz history and spare yourself the fool’s cap and bells. Let me be the only one to have this particular comeuppance.
— Matthew Greenberg is an Internet editor, writer and consultant in Washington, D.C. His last review as a Guest Butler was about The Decemberists.
To buy “Romare Bearden Revealed” from Amazon.com, click here.
